A Lesson in Truth
by lolerdsa
Summary: Shortly after returning to the Dursleys at the end of his fifth year, Harry receives a visit from the voices of his past, a visit that will turn his life upside down. Meanwhile, Fudge is barely holding on to his position as Minister by his fingertips, and the young Slytherins aren't what they seem. Manipulative Dumbles, Dark Harry, and a very strange series of alliances. Post OOTP.
1. Night Conversations

Chapter One: Night Conversations

Though they sounded as if they were talking to him from a long distance away, Harry could hear their voices clearly. The first voice flowed softly through Harry's head, like a gentle river. The second was sharp but powerful, like a bullet ripping through his mind. "Harry? Harry? Can you hear us?" The two voices spoke in unison.

"Yes," Harry replied, startled. "Who, who are you?"

"Why Harry, has it been that long? Try hard. Don't you remember?"

Despite Harry's distrust of incorporeal voices, he found a soothing presence in these ones. It were as if he was finally speaking to a familiar friend, as if he had heard them before, but could not assign them faces. Harry scrunched his face in concentration, trying to remember. "Think Harry, about when you were young."

"Who comforted you?" asked the first voice with it's flowing words.

"Who protected you?" boomed the second.

"Who healed you?", the said together in unison once more, now more forcefully than before.

And finally, for the first time in eight years, Harry remembered.

Harry could see himself in his tiny claustrophobic cupboard under the stairs. He was curled up on his small dirty cot, having been thrown inside after his uncle was done giving him his most recent beating. The tangy metallic stench of blood surrounded him, as he clutched his broken arm closer to him with every whimper. Suddenly, the blackness around him began to swirl. Two shadows emerged from the darkness, gently coiling around him. "What have they done to you this time Harry," asked the figure with the flowing voice.

Harry was very familiar with these two shadows. They had come to check on him, to help him, many times before.

"Arm... broken" Harry stammered out through clenched teeth.

"Don't worry child," said the voice like flowing water, "Allow me." The shadows twisted to form an arm draped in darkness, whose hand waved above Harry's broken bones.

"Now Harry," the second voice began in a powerful whisper. "I told you last time what would happen if they did this again."

"No please, you can't. You can't let them know that you're helping me. Uncle Vernon... he'd kill me," frantically replied Harry.

"I said what I said Harry. I'm not taking no for an answer, not this time." Two new arms emerged from the shadow, each cloaked in an ethereal sleeve, followed by a hooded head. It turned toward the locked cupboard door. One hand was raised. Suddenly the door of the cupboard exploded outward, and the shadows spilled out, now in two human forms.

"VERNON" the shadows screamed ripping their way through the hallway toward the living room where Vernon Dursley sat with his wife. Vernon barely looked up in time to see the second shadow raise his hand once more, before he was tossed across the room into the far wall. Vernon groaned softly.

"Albus, do something!" Harry heard his aunt say. Albus, Harry thought to himself as he surveyed his memory. It couldn't have been... no. But yet Harry saw, as his eight year old self tumbled out of the cupboard out into the hall and slowly creeped toward the opening to the living room, Albus Dumbledore sitting opposite from Petunia, wand outstretched. Harry heard Dumbledore mutter something under his breath, and suddenly, with a scream, the two shadows were thrown from the house. Dumbledore turned his gaze toward where Harry was barely poking his head in to the room.

"Hello Harry, well this is quite a mess, isn't it?" Harry head his mentor speak clearly in his recollection. "We can't have you remembering this, can we? So sorry dear. Obliviate."

"Harry, wait for us. We have found a way, we can come back. All you need to do is step outside your house, tomorrow night. We will know." Harry snapped out of his memories, cognizant of the present once more.

"Wait," replied Harry, startled. "What are you going to do? Why are you coming? Where have you been?"

"Just wait for us Harry, just step outside."

Harry's eyes sprung open as he bolted up in bed.


	2. Spirited Away

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

AN: Spells, whether of J.K's or my own invention, will be written in italics, as they are non-english words (a practice of J.K's as well). This, however, does not mean that all words written in italics are spells.

Previous Chapter:

"Harry, wait for us. We have found a way, we can come back. All you need to do is step outside your house, tomorrow night. We will know." Harry snapped out of his memories, cognizant of the present once more.

"Wait," replied Harry, startled. "What are you going to do? Why are you coming? Where have you been?"

"Just wait for us Harry, just step outside."

Harry's eyes sprung open as he bolted up in bed.

**Chapter Two –– Spirited Away**

Harry blindly grasped for his glasses for several seconds before locating them on his bedside table. After looking around his bedroom, Harry shut his eyes tightly, and concentrated on his dream. _Was it Voldemort_, Harry thought to himself. He had good reason to maintain his caution. After all, the last time that Harry had acted on the contents of his dreams, Sirius lost his life, and Harry nearly lost his own. Harry suddenly realized that he felt no pain in his scar. "So it couldn't have been him," Harry muttered to himself quietly. "But then why? Why would I dream that? And Dumbledore, he couldn't have... he wouldn't have... he's... Dumbledore." In fact, had it not been for the lingering, faint recollection of the memory that he saw, Harry would have forgotten about it all together.

Harry heard two sharp knocks on his bedroom door. Harry turned his head groggily to look at the clock on his nightstand. Sure enough, 8:30. This had become something of a ritual since Harry's return to the Durselys' several days prior. Harry had wanted nothing more than to be left alone, and after the warning the Dursleys received, they were more than happy to do so. Actually, they were terrified of interacting with him at all. Were it up to them, they would have pretended he did not exist entirely. It was only their fear of Madeye's repercussions, were he to find out that they were mistreating their nephew, that caused Harry's aunt to climb the staircase with a tray three times a day. She would leave it at the threshold of the door, and knock twice before scampering back down the stairs, lest her Nephew catch sight of her at all. Indeed, Harry only left his room for the occasional trip to the bathroom down the hall. And though he physically could have left his house if he wanted, Harry had no desire to be watched by the order members that he assumed were outside 'guarding' him for Dumbledore. And his friends _still _had not replied to his letters, Harry thought to himself, looking at the empty owl cage on the corner of his desk.

In effect, between Harry's self imposed confinement, and the isolation imposed by his friends, Harry had very little to do but to sit in his room and review old course books, or work on his summer assignments. But today, he had something new to do. Today, he could try to remember. So, after taking his breakfast from the tray, and replacing it with the remains of yesterday's dinner, Harry did just that. While absentmindedly munching on his morning toast he attempted to clear his mind, and focus on the voices he had heard in his dream. Rapidly, Harry fell deep into his memories. So deep, in fact, that Harry was scarcely aware of the hours passing one by one, until he was roused from his thoughts, with his toast still in hand, by his aunt's knocking five or so hours later. But by that time, food was the last thing on Harry's mind.

Harry felt sick, his mind a tangle of forbidden memories and thoughts. He could not believe that Dumbledore had betrayed him as he had done. And the rest of his life, his friends, and professors, everything, was all that a lie too? And as time passed, as more memories were recalled, the answer appeared more and more to be yes. Harry remembered the voices he heard in his dream the night before. They had come to him many times, they had helped him, and Harry was sure that Dumbledore was the reason that they had ceased to do so. Harry felt dizzy, as if the room was spinning around him. He could think of nothing other than the treachery that was revealed to him, and could think of no consolation but the words he heard in his sleep. All he needed to do was step would take him away from the Dursleys, he knew they would. And if not, well he certainly was not going to stay and wait for _Dumbledore_.

He collected his things together and packed them in his trunk. By the time he had finished checking and double checking every nook, cranny, and hiding space in which he might have forgotten a book or roll of parchment, it had already begun to get dark. Harry opened the door to his room, dragging his trunk behind him. For the first time since his arrival at the Dursley house, Harry moved pas the second floor landing, and brought his trunk down the stairs, leaving it by the door. He then found his relatives in the dining room. Vernon and Dudley nearly fell off their chairs in shock upon seeing him, while Petunia managed to retreat farther back in her chair. "Excuse me, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon," Harry began. "I would like you to know that I am leaving." Harry quickly continued before his relatives had the chance to interrupt. "After tonight, you should not need to see me until next summer vacation. Goodbye everyone."

Without waiting for his relatives' response, Harry turned and returned to his trunk. Opening the front door for the first time that summer, Harry, things in hand, stepped out into the night. Immediately Harry heard a voice whisper "_driesath ond sleap,_" quickly followed by two thuds from across the street. Suddenly, to his right, the two figures appeared. "The order guards Harry," the figure with the more commanding voice said, his head still turned to look across the street. He turned towards Harry. "We don't have much time," the voice continued.

For the first time in his memory, Harry saw the two in their corporeal forms. The first, the one who had spoken, was clearly male, with features that closely resembled Harry's own. His jet black hair was longer than Harry's, coming down below his shoulders, and tied back with a cord. His cheekbones were high, and covered by skin as pale as Harry's own. His eyes were striking, an unearthly swirl of greens and purples and golds. The second, clearly female, had identically dark hair and identically light skin, with a similar, angular face and eyes closer to Harry's own bright green. Her lips were dark red, blood red. All in all, the two possessed some sort of ethereal beauty that Harry had never before seen.

"You are them, aren't you? The spirits from my dreams... from my memories... but, you're people," Harry stammered out in confusion.

"We are them, yes Harry. And people... well in a manner of speaking."

"But...what are you doing here, and where have you been," Harry asked with uncertainty.

"Soon we will explain all to you Harry, but now we do not have the time," the woman replied with her flowing voice. "Our magic is still week in this world. They will soon awake," she said, motioning across the street.

"But you will fix that soon enough, won't you Harry," the first voice quickly added.

"Wait," interjected Harry, "what do you mean?"

"Well Harry-, " the man was interrupted before he could continue, the woman whispering harshly to him in a language that Harry could not recognize. "You're right," he said speaking to the woman. "Come Harry, we simply do not have time now. We will explain everything to you when we arrive."

"Arrive where?!" Harry shouted with exasperation.

"Are you coming or not Harry," the woman questioned him. Harry slowly nodded yes. "Then take grab your trunk, and take my hand." Harry slowly reached out his arm, and closed his fingers around hers. The man, standing on her right, grasped her other hand. Before Harry could speak, he heard her whisper something under her breath, and felt the earth spin beneath his feet. And suddenly, with a twist of the shadows, they were gone.

AN: I apologize for any formatting errors. I am still getting used to it.


	3. Explanations

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Previous Chapter:

Before Harry could speak, he heard her whisper something under her breath, and felt the earth spin beneath his feet. And suddenly, with a twist of the shadows, they were gone.

AN: Spells are italicized. When the Malkins speak in their own language, the type will also be italicized, following J.K's practice with Parseltongue.

**Chapter Three - Explanations**

When the spinning sensation ceased, Harry looked up to find himself in a vast stone hall. Its walls and floor were of a dark color. Candelabras and torches throughout the room illuminated a long, wooden table that lay in the room's center, surrounded by tall, throne like, wooden chairs. _Where am I_, Harry thought to himself._ What is this place_?

"Come, let us sit," said the man, interrupting Harry from his musings. He motioned to three chairs toward the head of the long table. "I'm sure you have many questions, Harry," the man began. Harry merely nodded in agreement, still too shocked by their sudden departure to speak. "Before you ask them, allow me to tell you a history. Will you let me?" Once again, Harry simply nodded yes. "Very well then," he continued, "let us begin.

"A long time ago, thousands of years before the birth of the warlock Merlin, a great, magical people lived isolated on a hidden island. They called it, in their tongue, Thammiatwa, but it came to be known in English as Avalon. Using their magics, each member of this nation could live for hundreds of thousands of years, and could control the world around them in an amazing way. They lived there, alone and isolated, for thousands of years, barred from entering the mortal world by the ancient forces, for their power was considered too great for the world to bear. This people became known as the Maylkan, the united clans, and were eventually called the Malkins by the people of the mortal world. Are you with me so far, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry replied, captivated.

"Then I shall continue," spoke the man, resuming his edifying tone. "It came to pass, that 600 years before the birth of Merlin, there lived a warlock of great power, who practiced his magics by summoning and controlling the spirits of the world. They told him of the Malkins, of their isolation, and of their immense power. He came to believe that if he summoned a Malkin spirit from Avalon, he would be able to control it as he did the other spirits, and increase his power by awesome proportions. And so, he went to a lake that the spirits had shown him, and in it created a portal to Avalon, through which he summoned the Malkin spirits. He was wrong, however. He could not control them. Unbeknownst to him, when he began his summoning, the leader of the Malkins, Eriv Sa, travelled through the portal in his ethereal form and possessed the body of the warlock. Now, possessing a body, Eriv Sa used his vast power to expand the work of warlock, and, over many days, created a bridge between the Malkin isle and the mortal world, forming the Lake of Avalon."

"So the Malkins were able to enter the mortal world... our world," Harry asked.

"Indeed they were, Harry. And the consequences of such were enormous. See, when they Malkins entered the mortal world, the came solely with the desire to rule over it and its people. But soon after entering, the Malkins found that the more they stayed in the mortal world, the more they themselves became mortal. Time began to pass for them the same as it did for the humans, and their powers too began to weaken."

"So," Harry interrupted, "Did they leave?"

"Oh no, Harry, it was far more terrible than that. The Malkins found a remedy to their suffering. By draining mortals of their life forces, and consuming them, the Malkins were able to sustain their own power, as if they were still on Avalon. Thus, the Malkins decided to enslave the mortals, so that they could sustain their own power by consuming their lives. With terrifying power, Eriv Sa and his high council summoned an army demon creatures called shades, creatures made of the darkness, and very powerful in their own right. They could take on any form that they were commanded too, corporeal or incorporeal, and could control the elements of the world. And worst of all, the shades could suck the life force out of mortals, and deliver it to their Malkin masters.

"The humans became soon became divided. Many mortals, confronted with the Malkin's awesome power, treated them as gods, and worshipped them. Others feared that to align themselves with the Malkins was like submitting to their own deaths, and took up arms to defend themselves. But, as you could imagine, the first group was far more successful. They aided the Malkins in conquering, and offered many of the captives that war brought as sacrifices to the Malkins. And so it came to pass, that by the time of Merlin's birth, there were very few human kingdoms that were free of the Malkins reign. Fortunately for the humans, Merlin was born in one of the strongest of them, Camelot."

"But, how did the humans manage to stay free," Harry asked, confused. "Surely the Malkins were powerful enough to conquer them."

"Indeed they would have been, Harry, had they still been fighting at the time," the man replied. "But at that time, the Malkins did little of the fighting themselves. The bulk of the fighting, for several hundred years by then, in fact, was carried out by the human servants of the Malkins. Anyway, I'll continue. So Merlin was born in one of the strongest of the still free human kingdoms. He was born with a great magical ability, greater than any mortal before him. Being as powerful as he was, Merlin quickly rose to become the leader of the resistance against the Malkins. But even with him fighting, the mortal armies still lost ground to those of the Malkins. But Merlin knew that the Malkin armies were much more powerful than those of Camelot. So, Merlin devised the earliest of the modern magics. Using his power, Merlin bestowed magical ability on a select group of mortals, and fashioned them wands with which they could cast spells.

"Now, armed with magic, the armies of Camelot were much more successful in their resistance. So successful, in fact, that soon reports were delivered to Eriv Sa and his council that a free mortal army was reconquering kingdoms, and freeing them from Malkin rule. The Malkins, of course, would not let this stand. They devised a two pronged plan. Firstly, they would grant magical abilities to a select group of their own followers, in order to combat the armies of Camelot on equal terms. Secondly, they decided that one the members of the councils would chose a human to disguise himself, infiltrate Camelot, and kill Merlin when the time was right. Morgana le Fay, the most powerful of the half Malkins, was chosen for the task."

"Wait," Harry cut in, "Morgana was a Malkin?"

"A Half Malkin, Harry, and a powerful one at that."

"Wait. What do you mean Half Malkin," Harry asked, his confusion apparent.

"Good question. Remember, by that time the Malkins had been in the world for over 600 years. In that time, many Malkins interbred with their mortal servants. Their offspring were half Malkin, half mortal, very powerful wizards and witches indeed, who came to call themselves the Dark Families. Of them, Morgana was the most powerful. Now, should I go on?"

Harry eagerly nodded in assent. The man continued.

"So now, armed with magic even more powerful than that which Merlin had bestowed upon the soldiers of Camelot, the human armies of the Malkins began to regain their ground, and Camelot was once again thrown into, what appeared to them, as futile resistance. It was to this Camelot that Morgana arrived, claiming to be a sorceress from a far off land who wished to aid Camelot in her fight for freedom. Morgana played her part well, and convinced everyone that she was truly trying to help them. Then, one night, Eriv Sa travelled from Avalon in his shadow form to Morgana, and instructed her to kill Merlin. She arose that very night and went to Merlin's chamber. There she fought him, and casted upon him the most powerful killing curse that she knew. But Merlin's power was such that he did not die, but was mortally wounded instead. Having failed her task, Morgana fled to the Lake of Avalon to request further instruction from Lord Sa, her master.

"Meanwhile, back in Camelot, Merlin knew that he was dying, and had little time left. Merlin gathered his followers to him, and told him that he was, on his death bed, going to perform a ritual, in which he would sacrifice his own life in order to banish the Malkins from the mortal world. If it worked, he told them, the Malkins would be bound in Avalon once more. With his followers surrounding him, Merlin performed the ritual, and with his death drove the Malkins from the world, leaving his followers with nothing but their magical talents, and the warning to never intermarry with the Dark Families."

"So the humans won then?" Harry asked hurriedly. "And why the warning about the marriage?"

"Hold on ,Harry. See, even Merlin's sacrifice could not remove the Malkins for ever. They were too strong for that. The spell had a caveat. It was such, that on the day when Merlin's direct descendants and descendants of the Malkins mixed, the Malkins would be able to return to the mortal world only as creatures of the night, bound to the shadows in the incorporeal forms. Hence the warning."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Now, among the Malkins were seers of great power, who had foretold these events long before they came to pass. And so, as the Malkins withdrew more and more from the fighting, the began to plan for their inevitable banishment. They carved out pieces of the world, and bound them to Avalon, so that they could withdraw to many 'islands' throughout the world, when the banishing would take place. Of course they weren't really islands, you understand. Yet, it was as if those parts of the world had never existed, but were extensions of Avalon itself. But even so, the Malkins would have no way of reopening the portal to the mortal world. So Sa devised a brilliant plan. He built a secret tomb next to the Lake of Avalon. In it, someone would be able to wait, sealed from the world in a dormant state, in order that one day, that someone could be reawakened, and open the portal once more. And do you know whom was placed there, Harry?"

"No..." Harry said softly.

"Morgana was."

A look of understanding appeared on Harry's face.

"See Harry, not only did the seers foresee Merlin's spell, but they foresaw Morgana's failure to kill him. And thus, when Morgana fled to the Lake of Avalon to speak to Sa, he placed her in a deep slumber, and sealed her in the tomb. He then called to all of his mortal allies, but not the Dark Families, and told them to withdraw to the 'islands' that he and his council had created throughout the world. And so, when the Malkins were thrown from the world by Merlin's ritual, and confined to their islands, a large number of their mortal supporters were sealed there with them."

"So... the humans got what they wanted then. Why did you say that they didn't win?"

"Patience, Harry. Allow a few more minutes to finish. Now, Merlin's son, now leading the fight, rushed out into a land now vacant of almost all his enemies."

"Almost all," asked Harry.

"The Dark Families remained, Harry. They were Malkins after all. Remember, Sa was aware of the limitations of Merlin's spell. He needed them to stay."

Once more, Harry silently nodded his head in understanding.

"Now, as you could imagine, the humans were eager to ascertain that the Malkins would never return to their lands. And so, Merlin's son claimed the Land that surrounded Lake Avalon, now dormant, and built there a fortress, so that no one would ever be able to summon the Malkins forth again. Little did he know, however, that by doing so, he did more harm that good for his people, for his fortress also protected Morgana's tomb."

"What happened then," Harry asked excitedly.

"Well, as you might have surmised, the humans then focused their attention on destroying the Dark Families. But the Dark Families remained powerful, and used their magics to ward their lands, villages, and towns, so that their enemies could not find them.

"Many years passed, and the numbers of non-magical humans soon became much, much larger than the number of the Light Wizards, as the descendants of Merlin's followers called themselves. Consequently, the wizards no longer led the people, whom were now ruled by non-magical kings. And soon, the non-magicals began to regard the wizards with suspicion, and blamed them for helping to hide the Dark Families, for not trying to find them in earnest. And so, the non-magicals, muggles, as the wizards began to call them, turned on the wizards, and began to attack them."

"Was that the beginning of the witch-hunting," Harry asked in a curious tone.

"Yes Harry, it was. And the wizards did not know what to do. So they went to their leader, the descendant of the direct line of Merlin, known by the name Gryffindor. He, ruling the wizards from his small fortress at Lake Avalon, then known as Hogwarts Castle, decided that the Light Wizards needed to find the Dark Families, and convince them to allow the Light Wizards to join them in hiding. Hearing of the non-magicals betrayal, The Dark Families allowed the Light Wizards to find them, and heard their pleas. The Dark wizards were prepared to help the Light Wizards who came to them for help, but only for a price. The Dark Families coveted the wands of the Light Wizards, as their own magic had steadily diminished since the departure of the Malkins from the world. The Light Wizards acquiesced, and using their new wands to access their old powers, the Dark Families hid their magical brethren from the muggle world.

"A generation after the Light merged with the Dark, it was decided that the wizards needed to build a school to teach magic to the next generation en masse, for now their numbers had doubled. Godric Gryffindor, son of the Gryffindor who led the Light to merge with the Dark, volunteered the small fortress of Hogwarts Castle. Along with two of his friends from the Light, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff, and one of the most prominent leaders of the Dark, Salazar Slytherin, Godric tore down the existing fortress, and the four began to build a new castle, to act as a school, with each responsible for one fourth of it's construction.

"Now the Dark Families retained their lore better than the Light, and remembered Morgana, and her tomb. Thus, Salazar chose to build his portion of the castle nearest to the lake. Underneath it, he built a secret labyrinth, far underground, that at the end of which lay Morgana's tomb. To protect his labyrinth, he placed a terrible, serpentine monster at its beginning, and it became known as the chamber of secrets. Soon, however, the other three founders became suspicious of Salazar, and he parted from them on bitter terms. Since then, even though the Light and Dark have gone to the same school, the two sides have remained in a cold alliance, with the Light always cautious to mix with the Dark, though not quite sure why."

"So that's why the Light and Dark are so mistrustful!" exclaimed Harry. "It's amazing that they're still bitter... most of them probably don't even know why."

"Yes Harry, but well, that's where you come in, isn't it," said the woman.

Both Harry and the man turned to look at the woman, who had spoken for the first time since they had sat down.

"Well," she said, nudging the man with her elbow, "go on."

"Yes, well," the man continued. "Merlin never anticipated any of that, Harry. He never anticipated that the Dark Families would survive long after the banishing, or that the Wizards would eventually hide themselves from the muggles, or that Hogwarts Castle would ever be built. But most of all, Merlin never anticipated the attitudes of blood purity that would form. So mistrustful of the humans they were, that the wizards adopted the practice of expelling all children born without magic from their world. Squibs, they called them. Anyway, Godric only had one child, a son, and he was one such squib, casted out of the wizarding world as a boy, with no recollection of his prior family. And even though the wizards then considered the direct line of Merlin to be dead, it was not, for the boy, though not magical, _was_ his direct heir."

"What happened to him," asked Harry.

"I'll tell you. He grew up in the muggle world, and went by the name of Jeremy Evans. He married, and had a family, who after many generations begot the first magical member of its line since the time of Merlin –– your mother, Harry, Lily Evans."

Harry looked at the man wide eyed, the disbelief clear upon his face. "No... it can't be. My mother was a a muggle-born! Dumbledore told me that..." Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion. _Dumbledore told me that_, he thought. _Who knows if it's really true_... "How do you know this," asked Harry forcefully, looking into the face of the man.

"It's simple Harry," the man replied. "My name is Lazhan Malkin ––"

"And mine is Aldora Malkin –– " the woman interjected.

"And we," the Lazhan said, wresting back control of the conversation, "are two members of the High Council that came to the mortal world with our master Eriv Sa all those years ago. When you were born, Harry, from the blood of Merlin on your mother's side, and the blood of Morgana's on your father's, we felt our bonds melt away ––"

"But the Potters had always been a light family," Harry shouted.

"Did _Dumbledore_ tell you that," Aldora asked with a sarcastic smirk, in her characteristic, flowing tone. "True, the Potters _were_ one of the few Dark Families that abandoned their ways and joined the Light during the merger. The Parters, Harry. You were first known as the Parters. And though your family did part from its traditions and loyalties, it could not part from its blood. Look at you Harry, look at me, look at us. Can't you see the relation?"

Harry, of course, could see the relation between the three of them easily. "So you're saying... that I am a Malkin," Harry asked slowly.

"Our blood runs in your veins along with that of Merlin," answer Lazhan. "Of course, your inheritance of our traits _would_ have been stronger if Dumbledore hadn't bound you magic when you were a baby ––"

"If Dumbledore hadn't done what!" Harry bellowed with outrage.

Lazhan proceeded before Harry could continue yelling. "Harry," he said, returning to his commanding tone. "It's time for you to make a decision. You have two choices. You can choose to be sent back to the Dursleys, and all will be as it was before, or you can choose to join us. What will it be Harry? Your true people, or the man who had locked in a cage for ten years," Lazhan demanded.

"Think carefully before you answer, Harry," Aldora cautioned him from her position down the table on Lazhan's right.

_Dumbledore bound my magic,_ Harry thought. _That manipulative son... what else has he done to me. No, I can't return to him. Who knows what he'll do. Perhaps it's time for me to look towards someone else. _Harry broke out into a smile. _After all, it's not like I've ever been safe while under Dumbledore's care... _"I'll join you," Harry said with an air of finality.

"Excellent," Lazhan said in a near whisper. "You're decision is far more important than you know."

"What do you mean," asked Harry.

"Oh, we'll discuss that tomorrow, Harry. You've had a long day, and it's been a lot to take in, I'm sure. It's best you go to sleep now."

A house elf appeared as Lazhan snapped his fingers. Harry looked at him, surprised.

"What," scoffed Lazhan, "you didn't think that we would have house elves too?" He chuckled. Turning to face the elf, Lazhan ordered: "Handy, show Harry to his room."

"Go on, Harry. We'll see you tomorrow morning," Aldora said, looking at the young man of 15.

Harry merely nodded once more, suddenly realizing his own weariness. Tiredly, Harry turned, and followed the elf out of the hall.

"Well," continued Aldora, "I think I'm going to rest now too, after all, it's been several days since I last have done."

"Very well, Aldora," Lazhan replied, "I'll tell _Him_, the good news.

After nodding her approval, Aldora exited the hall as Harry had just done. Lazhan, however, walked the opposite direction, to a door at the far end of the room. He soon came across a stair case, and before he knew, stood in front of a set of large, wooden doors. Lazhan knocked twice, and entered once he heard a muffled voice from behind the door say "enter." Lazhan looked toward a man seated in a high back, leather chair at the far side of the room. It lay behind a large, mahogany desk. Light emanating from numerous candles around the room reflected off its polished surface. The man, closely resembling Lazhan in features, sat reclined in his chair, legs crossed, with his long fingers drumming steadily on the dest top in front of him. Each of his nails made a clacking sound as it came in contact with the surface.

"_My Lord_," asked Lazhan.

"_Yes Lazhan, what is it_?" Eriv Sa straightened slowly in his chair to gaze fully at Lazhan in the doorway.

"_The boy has decided to join us. I thought you would want to know._"

"_Indeed I do_," replied Eriv, his mouth curving into a smile. His white teeth shined like the dark wood of his desk top. "_Thank you for telling me. When will you and Aldora perform the ritual?_"

"_Tomorrow, my lord,_" Lazhan answered quickly.

"_Excellent. You may go now, Lazhan, if that is all._"

"_It is, my lord._"

"_Very well. Goodnight Lazhan._"

Lazhan returned the farewell, and exited the room. Eriv resumed his prior pose, reclining back into his chair. _Excellent_, he thought to himself, still smiling. _Everything is going exactly, according to plan. _

AN: Lazhan pronounced with long As and accent on the last syllable. Aldora is pronounced with long vowels as well, with the accent on the first syllable. Once again, forgive me any formatting issues.

Please R and R


	4. An Unpleasant Interruption

Previous Chapter (two back actually):

Before Harry could speak, he heard her whisper something under her breath, and felt the earth spin beneath his feet. And suddenly, with a twist of the shadows, they were gone.

**Chapter Four –– An Unpleasant Interruption**

Tonks groggily raised her head, before slowly lifting her torso off of the wet ground beneath her into a sitting position. _Where am I_, she thought. She looked out into the night, first left, then right, and then left again. Suddenly, her eyes came to rest on a mailbox not far from she lay, illuminated by a nearby streetlamp. _Number four, it says... what's... _A chill ran down her spine as she quickly came to her senses.

_Why in Merlin's name am I on the ground. _The last thing she recalled was watching Harry open the door, and walk out of the Dursley house. She looked down at her watch, a thin band on her left wrist. _Damn! It's 11:30 already... Harry... somebody must have stunned us... and where the hell is Mundungus! _

She looked around for several seconds before finding Mundungus lying several yards in back of her. She removed her wand from her pocket and aimed.

"_Renervate."_

Mundungus twitched several times before he began to speak. "Wha––... What happened..." Mundungus muttered, obviously having still not cleared the cobwebs from his head. The flask nestled in his inside coat pocket, and his constant indulgence of its contents, had not helped him any.

"We were attacked, Dung," said Tonks, her voice showing both her desperation her sense of foreboding.

"Nahh..." Mundungus continued to swallow his words. "No one even knew we were here... just take it easy Tonks."

If Mundungus had raised his eyes to look at Tonks' face, he would have known that she was not going to take it easy. Tonks' hair began to turn red.

"Dung," Tonks said forcefully, "We were _attacked_. Someone stunned us!"

Mundungus met her words by rolling over. He began to snore.

Tonks, having had enough, quickly closed the distance between them, and began to prod Mundungus' midsection rather forcefully with the toe of her boot.

"Alright, alright," Mundungus shouted. "Stop you're kicking, I'm up, I'm up." Mundungus slowly rose to his feet. He smelled strongly of alcohol.

_I need to have a word with Albus about his drinking on the job_, thought Tonks after smelling him. _It's just dangerous to all of us. _"C'mon Dung," Tonks said, "We need to see if Harry is still there" _Merlin, Dumbledore will kill us if something happened to Harry on our watch_. Mundungus offered no response. Sighing in exasperation, Tonks grabbed him rather forcefully by the sleeve, turned, and began to march toward the front door of Number Four, dragging a semi-sober Mundungus behind her. Arriving at the front door with Mundungus in tow, she began to knock.

Meanwhile, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were upstairs, sleeping peacefully in their bed, comforted by the thought that they would not have to deal with wizards until the next summer. Sleeping peacefully, that is, until the knocking began. Petunia heard it first, but assumed that it was merely a neighbor returning home late from a long day, and rolled over. But the knocking persisted, and by that point, has roused Vernon from his sleep as well.

"Pet," he said, turning over to face her. "Do you hear that?"

"Yes of course I hear that, " Petunia answered back in a harsh whisper. Obviously, the knocking did not amuse her.

"Well..." continued Vernon, unfazed by her cold tone.

"I have _absolutely _no idea what is making that horrible knocking sound in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, Dudley walked into his parents' bedroom. "Mum, Dad," he began. "I think there's someone knocking at the door.

Petunia's face contorted into a grimace upon hearing her son's words. After all, visitors knocking at the door at this time of night could only mean one thing.

"Well," said Vernon. "She was _your _sister... you find out what they want."

Petunia begrudgingly got out of bed, put on her pink dressing gown, slipped on her slippers, and made her way out of the room, but not before shooting Vernon a very disgruntled look.

_Please, please, please don't let it be one of them,_ she thought as she descended the stairs. Petunia, having reached the door, stood up on her tip toes and peered through the peep hole. Of course, as per normal, it was one of them. Specifically, it was the woman with the spiky pink hair, though it appeared more red now than she had seen before. Checking that the chain lock on the door was firmly in place, and sliding the deadbolt out of position, Petunia turned the handle, and barely cracked the door, just enough for her to show her face.

"Took you long enough," Tonks said impatiently. "I must've been knocking for five minutes already."

_I know, _Petunia reflected to herself, her mood dark. "What do you want," she demanded, her voice cold and sharp.

Tonks, sensing Petunia's antagonistic disposition, decided to make her inquiry quick. "We just need to know if Harry's here," Tonks said.

"He's not," Petunia replied, "He left." With that, Petunia promptly shut the door in Tonks' face, and loudly slid the deadbolt back into place.

"What do you mean he left," Tonks said in a low voice, more to herself than to Petunia. Suddenly, her face twisted into a look of absolute horror. "_What do you mean he left!_" Tonks said again, this time both louder and more frantically. She took note of the closed door in front of her, and began to pound hysterically on the door.

The door opened again. Petunia pressed her face to the small space between the door and the doorframe. "What do you want _now_," Petunia said in a whine. "I told you already, he left."

"What do you mean," Tonks cried. "How could he just leave?"

"How do you think," Petunia snapped back angrily. "He just got up and left. Rudely too. First time we see the boy in days. He just marched right in as we were having dinner and said he was leaving. And thankfully he hasn't been back since. Now, is that all?"

Tonks could only meekly nod yes. Petunia slammed the door shut, and tromped back to bed, muttering the whole way about ungrateful freaks and their freakish friends.

Tonks looked back at Mundungus, his head resting on his shoulder. He appeared to be sleeping upright. Tonks raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Mundungus jolted awake.

"What the hell woman," he shouted.

"Mundungus! He's gone. Come on, we need to tell Albus."

"Oh hell..." was all Mundungus could say in response. Sadly, Tonks was aware of just how correct he was. And with that, Tonks grabbed him again by the arm, and the two disapparated with a loud pop.

Now, had this occurred even one month earlier, the two would have simply apparated to the foyer of Number 12 Grimlaud Place. They would have calmly, and quickly, made their way down the hall, and entered the spacious kitchen, where, at 11:00 pm, the members of The Order of the Phoenix would gather several times a week.

That changed when Sirius died. With the title of Lord Black being inherited, in all likeliness, by Draco Malfoy, and only a slim chance indeed for Sirius to have thought to will it to his godson, Harry, The Order, or rather its leader, felt that Number 12 was no longer an appropriate pit was no longer appropriate to use Number 12 for headquarters. "After all," as Dumbledore would say with a twinkle in his eye, "Better to be safe than sorry." And so, instead of the kitchen, the Order members would crowd themselves into Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, but only after first apparating to the nearby village of Hogsmeade, and trudging along the snow laden path (for there was always snow in Hogsmeade) until reaching the large castle gates. Dumbledore was unsurprisingly mute as to why they could not just use his fireplace.

Thus, instead of it taking Tonks and her somewhat very unwilling companion mere seconds to arrive to their destination, they did not arrive to the castle gates until almost midnight. Tired and disheveled, Tonks raised her wand, rested its tip on one of the large, metal bars, and softly said, "Phoenix."

Almost immediately, one of the silver instruments on Dumbledore's desk, began to emit a puff of deep red smoke every few seconds, as if it were exhaling.

"Who is it, Albus," a voice asked from the crowd around his desk, recognizing the sign. Dumbledore did not know.

Dumbledore then drew his wand from his pocket, and waved it through the small cloud of red smoke. The smoke began to twist and turn, and soon, it took the shape of several tall, wide trees, a even taller stone wall in front of them, a single metal gate, and two people waiting before it. Dumbledore waved his wand once more, and as the wall and trees melted away, the people grew in size, until the features of their face could be seen clearly in the smoky depiction.

"Why, it's Tonks and Mundungus," said Dumbledore surprised. Dumbledore raised his head. "Severus," he said looking at Snape, "would you go down and get them."

"Why can't you just open the gate from _here_, Albus, " Snape complained. "And for that matter," he continued, "why can't we just use patronuses instead of this smokey nonsense?"

"Now Severus," Dumbledore said in his grandfatherly tone, "you know as well as I do that it's all for the greater good. It would be a security risk if the gates could be opened from the castle. And you know that magic originating outside of Hogwarts can't cross into it. The wards see to that. Now, please, go fetch them."

Realizing the futility of his protest, Snape got up in a huff, and walked out the door, slamming it behind him as he left. It was several minutes before he made it to the gate, having become more irritated with every step.

"What _is _it," Snape barked at the two when he arrived at the gate.

"Severus, thank Merlin," Tonks said, panting. "Quickly, open the gate Severus, quickly." Her speech was becoming more frantic.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Tonks, why," Snape asked, having had quite enough.

"He's gone, Severus!"

"Who's gone?"

"Harry!"

It took Snape several seconds before a look of comprehension dawned on his face; his skin paled, and turned even whiter than it already was. Not out of care for the boy himself, but out of fear for the reactions of his two masters.

His hand darted forth from the folds of his robe, and flung the gate wide open. Tonks, frantic herself, rushed right through, still dragging Mundungus behind her. Snape firmly shut the gate, quickly caught up with Tonks, and the three soon found themselves at the door to the headmaster's office.

They pushed it open and hurried inside.

"That damn brat," said Snape angrily. He turned toward Dumbledore and pointed his finger in an accusatory manner. "I told you we should've just kept him here. _But no_, we couldn't do that, could we!"

"Severus, my boy, what is the matter." It was getting harder and harder for Dumbledore to maintain his grandfatherly facade.

"He's gone, Headmaster," said Tonks, panting harder now than before.

"Who's gone, Nymphadora?"

Tonks scowled as she heard her name. _Who do you think's gone_, she thought angrily. "Harry. Harry - is - gone."

Dumbledore's facade broke, and twisted into a very stern look indeed. The room stilled, and became silent.

"Tell me exactly what happened," Dumbledore said in a rough, cold tone, his words barely escaping through his clenched teeth.

"Well, headmaster," Tonks began, "Dung and I were doing our guard duty, see. And right about 9:00 I hear a door open. So I look up and sure 'nuff there's Harry standing right in the middle of the doorway. Last I thing I remember Harry just stepped outside."

"And why, pray tell, is that the last thing you remember," asked Albus in the same cold voice.

"Well headmaster, next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground and two and a half hours had passed. I figure somebody must've come up behind us and hit us with a _stupefy_. Anyway, I got me and Dung up, and went to talk to the Dursley lady. And _she_ told me that Harry had told her that he was leaving, and she hadn't seem him since."

For the first time that evening, no one had anything to say. Even Dumbledore remained quiet. Tonks looked around the room.

In the back left corner, Lupin sat brooding, though by now his face had turned white in shock and fear. The Weasley Twins stood next to him, leaning against the wall. They looked overall quite worried, though every few seconds the exact expression on one of the two's face would change, as if they were engaging in a conversation that only the two of them could hear. Their younger brother, Ronald, sat several feet in front of them, against Dumbledore's desk, situated between his mother on one side and Hermione on the other. His father sat next to his mother. On the other side of the room, Mad-eye Moody stood in the back right corner, his mouth set in a hard line across his face. In front of him stood Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, Emily Vance, and several others that Tonks could not see clearly. Professor McGonagall sat to Dumbledore's immediate right.

Molly was first to speak. "Well, we need to find him, don't we," she squealed.

"You're quite Molly," Dumbledore said, his toned having regained some of its usual softness, though he was having a hard time maintaining it so. "It is of the utmost importance that he is found and returned to his relatives' home. We need to suspend all operations until he is found."

"But Professor," Lupin said from his position in the back of the room, "We don't even know why he left. Surely we should ask him before sending him ba––"

"We've talked about this, Remus," answered Dumbledore. "The Dursley house is the only safe place for him."

_Merlin_, Snape thought upon hearing his words. _He's just as obsessed with the Potter brat as the dark lord is. _

Dumbledore checked the clock on his desk. "It's late now, everyone. I think it'd be for the best if we all headed off to bed now. I'll let you all know when the next meeting will be. Go on. It's bedtime."

The occupants of the room began to exit through the door, and make their way down to the Hogwarts Gates, in order apparate away. When the group arrived, its membered briefly exchanging parting pleasantries before each went his separate way. All its members, that is, except for one. As soon as Severus Snape stepped outside the boundaries of Hogwarts, he apparated away without a word, and arrived to his house at Spinner's End. Within minutes he had shed his outer robes, and in their place donned the deep black robes with the pointed hood of the Death Eaters, and fixed his bone white mask to his face, before apparating to Malfoy Manner.

He arrive before a set of ornate, wrought iron gates which separated him from the expansive, immaculately manicured lawns. He walks right through them, as if they were made of smoke, and made his way up the cobble stone walkway to the front door. He opened it, and proceeded inside, navigating the tortuous labyrinth of halls. Being as late as it was, he encountered no one.

He came to stop before a large, dark wooden door. Pausing only for a brief second to collect himself, Snape opened it, and walked into a large room, almost unlit, save several torches along the walls. The room was bare, except for a tall, throne-like chair upon a dais. Snape's shoes clacked against the stone floor with every step, until he stopped several feet before the throne. He knelt on the hard, stone floor.

"Rise, Severus," Voldemort hissed from his place on the dais.

Snape got up, though he kept his head bent. "My lord," he said.

"You're late, Severus," Voldemort said, raising his wand. Before Snape could apologize, Voldemort had already cast the Cruciatus Curse.

Snape fell once again to the floor, where he screamed for several seconds, until the curse was lifted. Panting, he slowly picked himself up, and stood upright once more, his head still bent.

"I'm sorry, my lord, but the meeting ran later than usual."

"What happened, Severus," Voldemort asked, though his tone made his question seem more like a demand, and less like an inquiry.

"It appears, my lord, that the potter boy has left his relatives' house without telling anyone. Dumbledore couldn't believe it when he heard. He declared all Order operations suspended until they find him."

"That is good news indeed." Voldemort began to smile, though it was scarier than it was reassuring. You've done well, Severus," Voldemort hissed. "Its imperative that we find him before they do, then, isn't it."

"Yes, my lord," Snape replied.

Voldemort said nothing. He sat in silence, thinking.

Several silent minutes passed before Snape called his attention. "My Lord," Snape asked tentatively.

Voldemort looked up suddenly, as if he had just remembered that there was indeed another person in the room with him. "Get out Severus," he whispered, softly but firmly.

"My lord," Snape asked again, unsure.

"I said get out," Voldemort screamed, his red eyes glowing in the darkness.

Snape rushed quickly from the room, eager to avoid another round of the Cruciatus Curse. As he made his way back through the twisting halls, Snape found himself doubting the sanity of both of his masters, and cursing his ill fate to have been caught between them.

AN: Upcoming... Harry learns some new tricks, and Snape accidentally hears a very interesting conversation.

Please Rate and Review


	5. Of Ritual and Circumstance

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (my characters are mine, however).

AN: For simplicity's sake, though the Malkins themselves speak in their own language, I will assume that the non-malkins who were sealed off with them speak english.

Previous Chapter:

"Go on, Harry. We'll see you tomorrow morning," Aldora said, looking at the young man of 15.

Harry merely nodded once more, suddenly realizing his own weariness. Tiredly, Harry turned, and followed the elf out of the hall.

**Chapter 5 –– Of Ritual and Circumstance**

When Harry awoke, he found himself in the most luxurious bed in which he had ever been. Its sheets where ivory colored, and its blankets where of a deep, dark red. And had it been up to Harry, he would have remained in that bed for some time. He was, however, awoken by a loud popping noise, just as the first lights of day poured in through the windows.

"Young master," said the elf who had arrived with a pop. "It's time to get up."

"What..." Harry said still half asleep. He buried his head in the pillows surrounding him hoping to be left alone.

The elf carried on as if Harry was wade awake. "Breakfast will be served in precisely half an hour," the elf said. "Now through that door there," he said pointing to a wooden door to the left of Harry's bed, "You will find a bathroom where you can wash up." Pointing to another door to the first's immediate right, he continued, "And though that one you'll find your closet. Everything _should_ be in your size."

Realizing that the elf had no intention of letting him sleep, Harry slowly sat up. _Where am I_, Harry thought. He looked about the room. It was made of a grey, polished stone. The floor was covered with plush carpets, and its walls with tapestries, depicting scenes that Harry did not recognize. To the right of his bed, Harry thought he saw three large windows, though the largest of the three, in the middle, was a set of glass doors that opened to a small balcony outside. Directly in front of Harry, at the other end of the room, was a large fireplace, the fire having been lit before Harry had been awoken. Surrounding it where several wingback chairs, a coffee table between them.

Suddenly, Harry recalled yesterday's events: his departure from his relative's house, his long conversation with Lazhan and Aldora, and the feeling of warmth and excitement that filled him as he realized, that for perhaps the first time, he truly had a family.

"Now," said the elf, interrupting Harry from his thoughts, "once you are washed and dressed just call for me so that I can show you to the dining room. Now if that is all young master then ––"

Harry interrupted the elf before it finished. "Elf," Harry began, "can you tell me where we are, exactly?"

The elf looked at Harry with a curious expression, as if to say "Who doesn't know where we are." Instead, the elf replied "Why, we're at Valtoresh, of course!"

"I- I'm sorry," said Harry, "But what is Valto..." Harry began to wave his hand in a circular motion, searching his memory for the rest of the name.

Now the elf truly looked shocked. "Valtoresh is the Lord Sa's palace."

"So... So we're in Avalon, then?" Harry both asked and exclaimed.

"Well where else _would _we be," the elf replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You know as well as I that no one's been able to leave here since the portal closed."

Harry was in too much shock to speak.

"Now quick, young master," the elf's speech was hurried. "You don't have much time left. You need to get ready now or else you'll be late! Remember, bathroom and closet are over there." The elf finished speaking, and disappeared with a pop.

Harry got out of bed, and made his way across the room to where the elf had pointed. Not recalling which door led to the bathroom and which to the closet, Harry guessed. He guessed correctly.

Harry was astounded as he walked into the bathroom; he had never seen anything like it. Not even the prefect bathroom at Hogwarts could compare. The room was tiled with an off white marble. Next to the door was a large, porcelain sink, with a wide mirror hanging above it. Continuing in, Harry spied a toilet through a door in the side wall, before his eyes came to rest upon the pool sized bath that took up the entire back, and opposite side, of the room, figured like an L. It was set several feet above the floor, though appeared to be lacking a wall at its back to stop it from spilling out into the open air. Above one corner of the bath, and up what seemed to be a small, twisting set of stairs, there was a large shower on a platform. Moving closer, Harry saw that indeed there was a wall, a solid pane of glass that overlooked the castle.

The castle, Valtoresh, was magnificent, even more magnificent than Hogwarts. At least, that was Harry's impression of what he saw. Through the large wall of glass, Harry looked down on several sets of walls, each with lofty towers, and the occasional guard who passed on top of them. Beyond them Harry saw a vast forest or tall evergreens.

Harry, suddenly recalling that he was under a time constraint, ran to the sink where he washed up (he knew he did not have time for a shower) before exiting the bathroom, and flinging open the closet door. Once again, Harry was absolutely shocked. Harry, who had never really owned more than his school uniform and his cousin's old castoffs, marveled at the amount of clothes before him. There were robes of countless varieties and colors. Sticking with familiarity, Harry pulled a black robe from amidst the sea of greens and blues and purples and reds, before continuing in to find the rest of what he would need. Harry continued to forage for clothes in the large closet, so large in fact that Harry figured that it was bigger than his room at the Dursley house.

Several minutes later, Harry was dressed and ready to go. Harry snapped his fingers, as Lazhan had the night before, and the elf appeared before him.

"I'm ready to go," Harry told him.

The elf nodded, and the two set out. Harry was led through a maze of twists and turns before arriving at a set of french doors. The elf opened the door and showed Harry through.

"The young master," the elf announced to the occupants of the room.

It was a different room than the one in which Harry had arrived the previous day. Though it too was made of stone, and contained nought but a table and chairs, it looked remarkably different. It's stone was of a lighter, polished, grey; its table was smaller, wooden, and quite ornate. A large, grand fireplace was set in the wall to Harry's right, behind the foot of the table, and a large chandelier hanged above its center. Similar to his bathroom, the wall immediately across from Harry, spanning the table's length, was made of solid glass. Suddenly, Harry came under the impression that the entire room was not supported underneath, but instead jutted out into the air.

"Harry. Come, sit down."

Harry looked up, and saw Lazhan and Aldora. Between them, at the head of the table, sat a man that Harry had not seen before, who was gesturing to a seat at Lazhan's immediate left. Harry quickly walked over and sat down. For some reason, perhaps it was the way the man spoke, Harry felt the need to rush.

"Well then," the man said. "Now that Harry's here, I believe we can start."

He snapped his fingers, and then turned his hand so that his index finger pointed down toward the end of the table. As if some sort of covering was being drawn back, dishes laden with food began to appear, originating just past his hand, and ending just past Harry.

"Please everyone," the man continued, "Help yourselves."

Harry chose, from the many varieties before him, what most resembled traditional English fare. Eggs (though colored more dark red than yellow, he was unsure what animal had laid them), sausages, and a sort of porridge. As he was shifting the food to his plate, he heard Aldora opposite him whisper something in a low voice.

"Oh, right," said the man. "Forgive me Harry. It seems that I've forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Eriv, Harry. Eriv Sa."

Harry, who already had a bite of food in his mouth, said nothing; his eyes grew wide for an instant, before returning to normal. He turned his face downward, and chewed for several more seconds, before swallowing. Harry did not know what to say.

Luckily for Harry, he did not have too. Sa began to speak in a language that Harry did not recognize.

"_You will be performing the ritual today, will you not," _Sa asked the two sitting next to him.

"_Indeed, my lord," _replied Lazhan quickly.

_"You must not tell him how the ritual works, or what his part to come shall be,"_ continued Sa. _"Not yet, at least. His emotions are still human."_

_"Do not fret, my lord," _said Aldora. "_We shan't tell him unless he asks, and even at that, only afterwards."_

_"Good. Very well. I shall leave you to your task." _

Sa stood up and left the room.

Harry raised his head to look at Lazhan.

"Tha– that... that was was _Him _right? That was _the _Sa?" Harry asked.

"Yes Harry. But there are more important things to discuss now," said Lazhan. "Now do you recall that we discussed your bloodlines last night, and the decision you made about your future?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "Of course I do. That wasn't exactly something that one forgets easily."

"Indeed, Harry. Now, this is what we wish to discuss. Your outside form, Harry, your physical appearance, it is not really you. Deep inside, you are one of us, but you have been trapped by generations of non-malkin blood ––"

"And Dumbledore binding your magic, of course," interrupted Aldora before Lazhan could finish.

Harry said nothing, but met her words with a dark scowl.

"Anyway, Harry, as I was saying, you may have noticed that since you have been here –– wait, you know where we are, right?"

Harry nodded. "Avalon... Valdora or something..."

"Valtoresh, Harry. Did you ask the elf?"

Harry nodded again. Lazhan continued to speak.

"So, Harry, you may have noticed that since you have been here, in Avalon, your power has grown, your body has changed. You are becoming more like you true self." Seeing Harry's confusion, Lazhan said, "Your glasses, Harry."

Harry realized just then that for the first time, he had forgotten to put on his glasses in the morning; and despite that, he was seeing better than he ever had done before.

"Now, there is a ritual devised by the Lord Sa himself, that you are to undergo. It will help you. Your true self will be revealed."

"Your Malkin blood will become more prominent," explained Aldora.

"Yes," agreed Lazhan. "Now, had Dumbledore not bound your magic, and by doing so bound the Malkin within you, all the ritual would have done is increase your magic. But it is not so. See, Harry, it is as if your magic and inheritance has been locked in a small cage all these years, and has not been allowed to grow freely. But still, it grew, and it strains to be free. So now, when you undergo the ritual, the cage will break down, and your inheritance and magic will explode outwards."

"So what will that do," Harry asked nervously.

"You should not worry, Harry," answered Aldora. "It will have several consequences, but mainly your powers will grow _exponentially_. You will be almost like us, with just a fraction of mortal blood left within you. Thus, you will be able to use some of our magics, as well as the wizarding magic. The wand magic."

"Wait... you all don't use wands?"

"No, Harry," Aldora said, almost chuckling. "Occasionally one must use a staff for a ritual or something, but we need to wands. Remember the history, Harry. Merlin created the wandlore. Our magic is too powerful to use with a wand; it would destroy it."

"That's not important," Lazhan interrupted. "What is important is that you know that your magic will become more powerful. Furthermore, your appearance will change slightly, and you will gain quite a bit of knowledge. For example, you will innately know to speak our language." _And you will become harder Harry, more... Dark_, Lazhan thought to himself. He did not dare tell Harry, though. He had been explicitly ordered not to do so.

"Eat up, Harry," Aldora reminded him, seeing that he had not touched his food since she and Lazhan had begun the explanations. "We have work to do today."

Harry followed Lazhan and Aldora as they led him through a maze of twists and turns. "Remember, Harry," Aldora said in her flowing voice. "You are doing this to join your people. You will truly be one of us soon."

Harry suddenly wondered if, after the ritual, his voice would flow like hers. Then, a thought popped into his head. "Can I ask something," said Harry to Lazhan.

"Of course."

"Well..." he continued, "Yesterday you said that my decision was more important than I know. What did you mean by that?"

Had Harry been able to see Lazhan's face, he would have seen his smile change to a nervous look. Fortunately for Lazhan, Harry was behind him. After all, Sa had explicitly forbade telling Harry what his role would be.

"That is indeed an important question, Harry, and is one that will be discussed at length. But, we simply do not have the time now. Rest assured, Harry, we will discuss as soon as you wake after the ritual."

"As soon as I wake up?" Harry asked in a confused tone.

"Your body will be changing, Harry. You'll need to sleep for a bit so that your body can adapt."

Suddenly, Aldora opened a door in the wall and entered; Lazhan ushered Harry through. The room was made of a polished white marble, and contained no furniture. The roof was made of glass, and underneath it, in the center of the room, several feet above the ground, was a long rectangular pool. It had several steps reaching up to it, as it would have been too high for someone to climb into comfortably. Its waters were dead calm, and perfectly clear.

"Now Harry," began Aldora, "This is the way the ritual works."

Harry turned his head to look at her.

"You must undress completely, and enter the pool, completely submerged."

"Wait," Harry interrupted, "I have to get naked?"

"Yes, Harry." Aldora saw the look on Harry's face. "Harry, I have been alive for over ten thousand years. Believe me, I've seen everything there is to see. Now, you'll need to undress, and enter the pool. When you are there, you must breathe normally, as if there was no water, and keep your eyes shut firmly. Whatever you do, you cannot open them. Can you do that?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "But... I'm supposed to breathe in the water? Won't I drown?"

"You will be fine, Harry. Just keep your eyes closed. Now before we begin, there is something you should know."

"What is it," Harry asked.

"Well, Harry... We know, that is Lazhan and I, that you have lost your parents and more recently your Godfather. And we know that we can't replace them. But we, as the performers of the ritual, will have a special blood connection formed... almost like we are family. In a sense, we will be adopting you as your Malkin family."

"So... you're going to be... you're... you'll be like my new Godparents."

"If that is how you would like to see us as, Harry, we would be delighted," answered Aldora.

For some reason, Harry had no problem with this. After all, they had been helping him since he was little, and would have continued to do so if it weren't for Dumbledore.

"So... should I undress now," Harry asked shyly.

"That would be the best," said Aldora. "If it makes you more comfortable, we can turn our backs until you get into the water."

Harry nodded, and Aldora and Lazhan proceeded to do so. They waited until they heard Harry entered the water, before turning around.

"_I will get the prisoner,_" said Lazhan. As Aldora began to climb the steps to stand at the pool's edge, Lazhan walked over to the wall, and pressed his hand flat against it. Suddenly, a door appeared. He opened it, and walked in.

The room which he entered was a tiny one, and lacked the light of the one he had left. It too was empty, save a man cowering in the back left corner. His mouth was bound, and his hands were tied behind his back.

"How are you," Lazhan asked sarcastically.

The man just grunted in return.

Lazhan raised his hand, and the man suddenly was raised to his feet, as if he was pulled up by an invisible rope. Lazhan slowly turned toward the door, his hand still outstretched. The man's body, floating in mid-air, was pulled from one side of the room to the other, as if Lazhan's arm was twenty feet long and grasping the man by the neck

Lazhan, using his magic, forced the man out of the room and up the stairs, to where Aldora was waiting. She reached out into the air, and suddenly a silver knife appeared in her hand, as if she had plucked it from an invisible shelf.

"_Hurry Lazhan, we must begin._"

Lazhan quickly climbed the stairs to stand beside her, and took the knife from her hand. The man lay on the stone between them.

"_Now then, Aldora? _" Aldora just nodded.

Lazhan nodded back. He began. Raising the knife in his right hand, Lazhan drew it across his left palm, forming a long, bleeding cut. He stretched his hand over the pool, in which Harry was submerged, eyes closed. Several drops fell into the water below.

"_I, Lazhan of the Malkins, offer my blood as your new father, from my blood may you be reborn._"

Aldora quickly grabbed the knife from him, and cut her own palm, letting the blood drip into the water.

"_I, Aldora of the Malkins, offer my blood as your new mother, from my blood may you be reborn._"

Aldora reached down and pulled the man into a kneeling position. After giving the knife to Lazhan, she grabbed the man's head and tilted it backwards, exposing his neck. Lazhan drew the knife across the wide-eyed man's throat. As she had done with her palm, Aldora dragged the dying man's head over the surface of the water. His blood fell in too.

"_I, Lazhan of the Malkins, as your new father in blood, offer a life to the ancient spirits, so that you may have new life, and be reborn. May his life be the key, to unlock yours."_

As Lazhan finished the last word, the pool began to glow, and the water began to bubble. Lazhan and Aldora scrambled down the steps, dragging the man's corpse with them. Suddenly, the pool disappeared, steps and all. All that remained was Harry, lying prone on the marble floor, sleeping, with a gentle glow surrounding his body.

Lazhan and Aldora looked at each other, smiling. The ritual had worked.

AN: Please Rate and Review. Thank you to everyone that has favorited and is following.


	6. Lessons

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My characters, and my plot, are mine.

Previous Chapter:

Lazhan and Aldora looked at each other, smiling. The ritual had worked.

AN: Remember, Malkin language will be written with Italics (as are spells). Also, I have plot breaks within a single chapter will be separated with some sort of nice design that is centered. I have tried to separate sections with merely more space, and the website will not allow me. Thank you.

**Chapter Six –– Lessons**

Harry opened his eyes. Sitting up, he found himself in his bedroom again. It was morning, and room was illuminated by the sun light spilling in through the side windows. At the back of the room, Lazhan and Aldora sat across from each other in the wingback chairs.

"_Ah... Harry, you're up finally,_" Lazhan said.

"_Hello..._" Harry said sleepily. He yawned. "_Did the ritual work? _"

"_Listen to your voice and tell me, Harry."_

Just then, Harry realized that he had spoken in a language in which he had never spoken before. Harry grinned, realizing that the ritual was succesful.

Aldora got up from her chair, and walked to the bed where Harry was still sitting. She handed him a glass vial with a purple liquid inside.

"_Drink up, Harry,_" she said. "_It's a nutrient potion, something to tide you over until you eat. You must be hungry. After all, you've been asleep for three days._"

"_Three days!_" Harry exclaimed.

"_Indeed,_" replied Aldora. "_Now hurry up and get dressed, Harry,_" she said while returning to her chair. _"The Lord Sa wanted to speak with you upon your awakening._"

Nodding ascent, Harry slipped out of the bed. He walked into the bathroom, and looked into the mirror. The Harry that was reflected back at him was different from that with which Harry was familiar. He was taller, standing at about six feet. His face had become more angular, and his teeth whiter. Harry looked down, and saw that his fingernails were longer too, almost resembling claws. Looking back into the mirror, Harry noticed that his skin had paled slightly, and that his eyes had changed slightly, to a glowing jade color.

Harry finished in the bathroom, and soon he was dressed and ready. Harry walked over to the wingback chairs to join his two new Godparents.

"_Are you ready, Harry?_" Asked Lazhan.

"_Yes,_" Harry replied.

"_Well, let's go then,_" Lazhan said, standing up from his chair. He walked toward the door; Harry and Aldora followed.

The three started off through the maze of halls, yet, unlike all the other times, Harry knew where they were going. _It must be because of the ritual_, Harry thought to himself. _Aldora did say that I would gain knowledge. _

Soon they came to stop before a set of large, wooden doors. As he had intuitively known the path through the maze, Harry knew that the doors opened to Lord Sa's study. He would never have guessed, though, what he would learn once he entered.

Lazhan cracked the door slightly and knocked twice. Harry heard a voice from within say, "_Come in._" He recognized it as belonging to Sa.

The three entered the room, and Harry saw for the first time the study with its walls of books and scrolls, the mahogany desk, and the large windows behind it. Harry, Lazhan, and Aldora sat in three chairs across the desk from Sa, that he had motioned to as they entered.

"_Harry, so good that you are awake. The ritual was a success then, I take it?_" Sa asked Harry as he sat down. Harry looked up at him. To his surprise, there were two people behind the desk. Several steps behind Sa's right stood a man. He looked different from the Malkins, with dark brown hair instead of pitch black, tanner skin, and amber eyes; he wore black pants tucked into a pair of black boots, and a tight fitting black shirt, instead of the normal Malkin robes.

Sa followed Harry's line of vision to the man behind him. "_This is Thorne, Harry,_" Sa explained. Thorne looked at Harry and nodded his head. "_We will get to him in a few minutes. But first, Harry, we need to discuss your role in the future."_

Harry looked at him with an inquisitive expression on his face. "_My role,_" Harry asked.

"_Yes, Harry, your role." _Sa replied. "_Do you remember what Lazhan told you of the curse that binds us in Avalon._"

Harry nodded his head.

Sa continued. "_Well, since your birth, us of full Malkin blood have been able to travel to the mortal world as spirits during the night. We have found that we can take non malkins with us to the mortal world, and back with us from the mortal world. It seems that Merlin never anticipated that our human followers would be sealed away with us._"

Harry still looked confused. He was not sure where Sa was going with this.

Seeing Harry's confusion, Sa said, "_Harry, let me start from the beginning. As you know, we controlled the entire world, once, and we were thrown from it._"

Harry slowly nodded his head.

"_Well, Harry, it is our dream to do so again. And you, Harry... You are the one that is going to make that dream a reality._"

Sa continued before Harry could ask a question. "_You see, Harry, as I said, we can visit the mortal world at night. And thus, we know what is going on there. We know of Voldemort's rise, and Dumbledore's little group, and Fudge's massive mistakes, and the public's desire to get rid of him. And so, Harry, the High Council and myself have developed a plan._"

"_Yes..._" Harry asked, tentatively.

"_You, Harry, are going to return to the wizarding world, and tell Fudge that you have a proposition to benefit you both. You will tell him that you are aware that the public shall throw him aside unless he shows resolute action against Voldemort, and that you wish to get revenge on both Voldemort and Dumbledore. And so, you will tell him that you have, under your command, an elite force of fighters, masters of magic, who will join with the ministry under your command as a sort of secret police force, whose sole aim shall be to restore public order. And you shall use this force, Harry, not only to arrest the death eaters, but to arrest anyone that stands in your way, especially Dumbledore's group––_"

"_But my lord ––_" Sa continued speaking through Harry's interjection, becoming more animated by the word.

"_Then, Harry, you shall contact the goblins and the Dark Families that remain, and you shall tell them that you are the leader of the Malkins in the mortal world, and that soon the Lake of Avalon shall be reopened again. And they too shall join you, Harry––_"

"_But my lord––_"

"_And lastly, Harry, you shall use your power to take over the Hogwarts school from Dumbledore, and you shall find Morgana's tomb. And on Halloween night, when the dead are closest to the mortal world, you shall perform the ritual that shall awaken her, and she shall restore the portal between the worlds, and then we shall set out to conquer again––_"

"_But my lord!_"

"_What Harry?_"

"_How am I supposed to do that? I don't have a secret force. They won't listen to me. I certainly can't defeat Dumbledore. I don't know the ritual. I don't even know where the tomb is––_"

"_Well, Harry,_" Sa interrupted Harry's frantic outburst, "_That is where you are wrong. This is where Thorne comes in. Remember, Harry, among us are the best seers of all time. They foresaw this day Harry, and we have prepared for it. Thorne, Harry, is the leader of a group known as The Black Rose. They are elite fighters, and wand users, chosen from among all of the humans of the Malkin Islands. They will be your elite force._"

"_And why will they listen to me? What about my power?_"

"_Furthermore, Harry, you will be trained extensively before you return; Aldora and Lazhan shall train you in the Malkin magics, and Thorne and several of officers of the Black Rose shall train you in wand magic. And you will gain everyone's support quickly. The Goblins and the Dark families will support you for your blood, and Fudge will support you for you help. And soon he will realize that you are in control, and will sit back and enjoy his position._"

"_But––_"

"_Look, Harry. I am tasking you with a mission. You will enter the wizarding world with an elite force, and you will take control of the Ministry and Hogwarts before Halloween, at which time you shall perform the ritual –– and I don't care how you do it, though it would be wise to follow my advise. And I will instruct you in the ritual when the time comes._"

Sa's voice carried an air of power and finality that suddenly made Harry very nervous that he had interrupted him as many times as he had done.

"_May I ask one more question,_" Harry said demurely.

"_Yes Harry, you may._"

"_Well..._" Harry began, "_How will I have enough time to train?_"

Sa began to laugh.

"_Harry,_" he replied, "_Do not forget that we are in Avalon. Time is different here than in the world from which you came. You have been here almost a week, yet only a few hours have passed in the mortal world. Do not fret. When you return to the human world, it shall only be about a day or so later than when you departed. Now, go along, Harry. It's time to start your training. _

Harry began to rise from his seat.

"_And Harry,_" Sa said, "_Remember, you belong to noble blood now, Harry –– you belong to my blood. And from this day forth, you too are a are a Lord here, Harry, and you will treated as a Lord when you return to the mortal world. Make sure you act like one._"

And with that, Harry and his three new teachers, made their way out the door.

~/\\/~

Thorne led Harry through the halls without speaking. Lazhan and Aldora had gone their own way, after bidding Harry goodbye, and promising to him him later for his lesson with them. Thorne showed Harry into a large room. It's walls and floors were padded with a sort of cushioning. Two people stood in the center of the room, one man and one woman; their clothing was identical to Thorne's, and they had similar appearances as well.

The two saluted as Thorne and Harry entered the room; their left arms pointed downward, parallel to their bodies. Their right arms were bent toward their foreheads, and Harry noted that each right hand firmly grasped a wand, which which extended across their foreheads.

"At ease," Thorne called out as he and Harry joined the two in the center of the room. The pair dropped their right hands downward, so that their right arms mirrored their left.

"My Lord," Thorne continued, "This is Howle, and this is Rayne," Thorne said while pointing to the man and woman respectively.

Harry noted that his voice sounded much less smooth than those of the Malkins, reminding him more of Mad-eye's barking tone.

Thorne continued to speak. "These two are my top officers, my lord. They will be helping me to train you, and will accompany both of us to the mortal world upon your return. Now, let's stop wasting time, and let's get to work. Do you have your wand?"

Harry nodded, and drew his wand from his pocket.

"Good. Now why don't we see what you can do. If you would join Rayne in the center. Howle, to the side."

Harry moved to the center of the room and raised his wand into ready position, aiming it at his opponent.

"Ready," Thorne asked. "Begin!"

Harry was completely unprepared for the barrage of spells that was fired at him, and was on the ground and incapacitated in seconds.

Thorne pointed his wand at Harry, and soon he was back on his feet. "Remember, my lord, do not stand in one place and trust your shield to protect you. You must move _with_ it, use your shield to parry her spells. Now, again!"

Harry went through this for what seemed like days, before Lazhan and Aldora knocked on the door.

Thorne turned to look at the door, through which the two had just entered the room. "Is it time for you two to take over, then?" Thorne asked.

"Indeed it is. Thank you, Thorne," Lazhan said. He motioned to Harry to stay where he was.

"Alright then," Thorne replied. "Howle, Rayne, move out. I'll see you tomorrow, my lord."

Lazhan and Aldora were left alone with Harry. They joined him in the center, where Harry was no sitting, panting. Lazhan took out another purple potion from his robes and handed it to Harry.

Harry looked at it questioningly. "_Am I not going to eat?_" Harry asked.

Lazhan chuckled. "_You'll have dinner later, Harry. Though you'll find, Harry, that as a Malkin you will need to eat much less. And sleep much less too, for that matter. Once every few days should be fine. We are just giving you these to help with the adjustment."_

Harry grabbed the potion and drank. Lazhan continued, "_Of course, once you return to the mortal world, you will need to eat and to consume mortal lives, but we will teach you that later._"

Harry noted that he was no longer adversed to the idea. When he had first heard it, in Lazhan's story, he was revolted by the idea of killing and preying upon humans. But now, it did not seem to bother him. In fact, he seemed less bothered by violence entirely, having learned some particularly vicious curses from Thorne during his training.

"_I have a question,_" Harry interjected, rising to his feet. Lazhan and Aldora looked at him. "_I have noticed, that since the ritual, my emotions have changed. Why is that?_"

"_I told you, Harry_", Aldora answered, "_The ritual turned you back into one of us. Did you think that your power and form would revert, but that your emotions would remain... mortal._" She scoffed.

Lazhan took control of the conversation. "_How about we begin, shall we._"

Harry and Aldora stopped speaking, and turned their heads to look at him.

"_Now, Harry, unlike your lessons with Thorne, you have never used this sort of magic before. So we will start with the basics. I want you, Harry, to make a flame appear in your hand. You must feel the ambient magic around you, and will it to make a flame in your hand. You must see the flame clearly might be aided by the incantation Kenbryne, but eventually you will not need it. Let me show you._"

Lazhan extended his hand in front of him at said, "_Kenbryne_!" Immediately a ball of fire erupted in his hand. "_Now look, Harry. Look. I control the flame. It does what I will._" Suddenly, Lazhan snapped his fingers, and the fire disappeared.

Harry looked on, astounded. "_Now you try, Harry._"

Harry held his hand out, as Lazhan had done, and looked at it intensely. "_Kenbryne_," he said. Nothing happened. Again, "_Kenbryne._" Still nothing. Harry looked at Lazhan, disappointed.

"_Remember, Harry, you need to see it there. You need to force it. You need to want it._"

Harry tried again, his face scrunched in concentration. "_Kenbryne!_" Suddenly, a small flame appeared in Harry's palm before fizzling out. Harry looked up at his two instructors, a wide smile on his face.

They looked back at him. "_Again, Harry."_

~/\\/~

For many years, Severus Snape had been of the custom to instruct his Slytherins in potions and wandwork during the summer. After all, he could not let them be shown up by … Gryffindors, and the summer provided the perfect opportunity to get ahead. And so, as he had done many times previous, Severus Snape apparated to the Greengrass manor, where he would instruct the rising sixth year Slytherins in their potions lesson of the week (they would meet there, for several of the sixth years had no desire to be any closer to Lucius Malfoy than they had to be).

Snape arrived in the manor's foyer as he had done many times in the past, and made his way to the potions laboratory in the dungeons under the manor. He was about to enter the room, and begin the lesson, when he heard something from within, something that he never expected to hear in all his days.

His godson Draco was speaking to the others (all were present but Crabbe and Goyle –– Snape _had_ his limits). "It was two days ago. The dark lord called me to his throne room, and he told me that he wants to give me the mark soon. And… Well he said that I need to kill Dumbledore before the year is out… or he'll kill mother."

"That is absolutely awful, Draco," Snape heard Daphne reply in one of her characteristic pureblood understatements. "You know, you need not to join him. As you know, he has asked father to join several times, and father denies him consistently––"

"Come on, Daph. You know that it's different. _Your father_ leads the Dark families, and the dark lord would not dare kill him. I am different. My own father would want me dead if I refused. Plus, he would kill mother."

"What about Dumbledore, Draco," Blaise interjected in his typical lazy tone. "You could go to him for protection. Narcissa could as well."

"What," scoffed Draco, "And become his lackey? I would rather take my chances with the dark lord."

"And that means that _I'll_ be in the same boat soon enough," Pansy moaned. "Merlin, I mean I wish there was somewhere we could turn. I don't want to be a death eater, not since the dark lord went crazy and started killing everything in sight. But I _do not _want to join up with Dumbledork either."

Snape reflected to himself. He never knew that his Slytherin's felt this way. He had always just assumed that Draco and Pansy would join the dark lord, and that Blaise, Tracy, and Daphne would join their parents in the Dark Assembly. But now, knowing that they would be forced to join against their will… well he had to do something. After all, once they came to Hogwarts, they became his charges.

Snape opened the door and swept in. The students started. Nervous expressions filled their faces.

"Professor..." Draco began timidly, "How are you?"

Snape gave him a sour look. "Draco… Everyone, I heard what you were saying. And you are all _fools_ for not coming to me sooner. Now, let me make this quite clear: if you do not want to join the dark lord, you will not have to do so. I will find a way to protect you."

"But professor," Draco interjected with a desperate sigh, "What can you do other than ask Dumbledore to hide us?"

"Do not worry Draco," Snape said. And as Snape stood there, in front of his young charges, he wondered not only how he would protect them, but if he could find a way to escape his own situation as well, if he could join them in their escape.

"Do not worry," Snape repeated. "I will find something."

AN: Coming up... Harry reenters the wizarding world, and Dumbledore gets a nasty surprise.

Please Review –– it's welcome and appreciated (or PM).


	7. The Lord of the Tower

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My characters and plot are mine.

**Chapter Seven –– The Lord of The Tower**

As harry sat in one of the leather chairs strewn throughout Sa's study, and looked through the large windows into the night sky, he could not help but reflect on his last few months in Avalon. He was… so different now. _I'm a Malkin now_, Harry thought to himself. _And a Noble at that_. But it was more than just his appearance, more than just his emotion –– it was his power; the things he could do now. Things that neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could even dream of doing. He was astounded, sometimes, by this own ability: by the things that Lazhan, Aldora, and Thorne had taught him.

He would miss his godparents. It would be strange to leave them, to leave Avalon. But he was glad that Thorne, Howle, and Rayne were returning with him, and he would be able to speak to Lazhan and Aldora during the night. Not that he would have much time to do so, of course. Harry knew that he would be quite busy upon his imminent return.

Harry heard the door open behind him, and rose to his feet. Turning, he saw Sa entering the study, closely followed by Lazhan and Aldora. Sa walked toward Harry, and clasped Harry's shoulder with his hand.

"_Well then, Harry, it is now time for you to return._"

"_Very well, My Lord. I shall not fail you,_" Harry replied.

"_Indeed you will not Harry. You have my full confidence in that. Now, Harry, there is one last thing we have yet to discuss._"

"_My Lord?_" Harry asked. He had not expected this.

"_I told you, Harry, all those months ago, that when the time came, I would instruct you in the ritual you must perform._"

Harry just stood and nodded his head.

"_Well, Harry,_" Sa continued, "_That time is now, so listen closely and remember well. Before Morgana's tomb, there is a stone basin resting on a pedestal. Now, on the night of the ritual, that being Hallow's Eve, you and you alone must enter the burial chamber with twelve people of magic, wizard or witch, that you have brought there against their will. You may not bring them to the chamber before that time, nor may anyone else help you bring them, though others may aid you in their capture. Then, using a knife, you must draw blood from each of the twelve people, and deposit it into the basin. At that point, you must use the wand that is more powerful than any other wand, and cast the ritual's spell._"

"_My Lord, what is the spell? And, which is the wand that is more powerful than any other?_"

"_The spell you shall find written in the chamber, Harry. And as for the wand, well Harry, the wand has a long history, one that if you ask about, any wizard could tell you. But what you need to know Harry, is that Dumbledore possesses the wand now. You must take it from him, and use it to reawaken Morgana._"

Sa waited several seconds for the information to sink in.

"_Do you understand, Harry?_" He asked.

Harry nodded yes.

"_Very well then. I bid you farewell, Harry. I shall see you soon. I'll leave you three alone, now. Lazhan, Aldora, bring Harry to the tower when you return him to the mortal world. Thorne and the others await him there._"

Sa snapped his fingers, and dissolved into the shadows.

Harry turned to look at his godparents.

"_What is the tower?_" Harry asked them.

"_The Tower, Harry,_" Lazhan explained, "_was a massive fortress built when we still ruled the mortal world. It was protected by every Malkin magic, and hidden from all, though it was not sealed away with us. Some time ago, Sa traveled by night, and ascertained that the fortress is still there. It shall be your home. Oh don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you will find it to your liking. Besides, Thorne and the others are already there._"

"_Alright,_" Harry said. "_Well, it's time for me to be off, then, isn't it._"

"_It is, Harry,_" said Aldora. "_Hold onto my hand, Harry._"

As he had done months ago, Harry grasped her hand in his, and the two disappeared with a swirl of the shadows.

~/\\/~

After saying goodbye, and retreating into the shadows once more, Aldora left Harry by himself in a small entrance hall. _An entrance hall_, Harry thought. _But an entrance to what?_ Suddenly, Thorne rushed into the room.

"Ah, My Lord, you're here," Thorne said, somewhat out of breath. "Come. The Council awaits you in the throne-room."

Harry said nothing. He merely stood, looked at his right hand man, and raised his eye brows in a question manner.

"Oh," Thorne said, a look of embarrasement dawning on his face. "It's right through here, My Lord. If you would follow me."

Thorne brought Harry to a door at the end of the room. From there, they advanced forward into a second chamber, and stopped before a magnificent pair of wooden doors. Thorn opened them, and Harry followed him inside.

Harry entered a splendid hall of polished alternating red and ivory marble. Numerous ornate chandeliers hung in two rows from the high, vaulted ceiling, with one, larger chandelier hanging in the hall's center. The two longer walls of the hall each contained two rows of identical windows, one atop the other, with the bottom window of each pair set back in the wall to form an alcove; each window was curtained in a deep red velvet, matching the color. Between each set of two windows, two chairs sat side by side, their backs against the wall, and upholstered in the same rich cloth. And at the end of the hall, on a tall dais of the same ivory marble, beneath a backdrop of the same fabric, stood a tall, victorian throne, upholstered in ivory velvet, and supported by a gold plated frame.

Before it, Harry saw his council, the twelve highest ranking officers of The Black Rose, his two generals Howle and Rayne, and the ten captains beneath them.

Each of the twelve turned and saluted when they heard Harry and Thorne enter the hall, and watched as Harry marched across the floor, ascended each of the seven ivory steps (each covered with a red carpet, of course) to his throne, and sat down. With a wave of his hand, Harry conjured thirteen chairs in a semi-circle before his throne; twelve for the members of the council, and one for Thorne.

"Everyone, please sit."

Everyone promptly sat upon hearing Harry's words.

"My Lord," said Rayne from her place beneath the dais, "It is good to see that your trip back was without problem."

"Yes, thank you Rayne. Could someone tell me what the date is?" Asked Harry in an off-hand manner. Sa never did tell him how much time had passed in this world while he had been in avalon.

This time Howle spoke. "We are now in the fifth night of July, My Lord."

Harry sat without speaking, reflecting on what he heard instead._The night of July 5th… Why it's now the very night that Aldora took me from this world. _

"Very well, thank you, Howle," Harry replied. "Now then," Harry ordered, "Rayne, you and your team write the letter for Fudge. Bring it to me when you've finished. I would like to review it before it is sent."

"Yes, My Lord," Rayne responded. "A question, My Lord," she continued, "how should we present ourselves to Fudge. As the black rose?"

"No!" Harry shouted. "Absolutely not. No one is to know that we are called by that name."

"But why, I don't understand. That _is _who we are…"

Harry turned his head to look at Thorne. "You haven't told them yet, I assume?"

"No, My Lord," Thorne answered. "I was waiting for your instruction."

"Very well. Then instruct them now, Thorne."

Thorne rose from his seat, and went to stand directly before the dais, at the head of the semi-circle. He began to speak in his commanding voice.

"The Master and I have decided that this organization shall be known by two names. The reason for this is simple. While we are associated with the Ministry, we must follow the law. Despite the fact that we will be permitted under it to carry out actions that others may not, we will still be restricted from acting without boundaries. Is this clear so far?"

Thorne was met with a chorus of _yes sirs_ from the semi-circle around him.

"Therefore," he continued, "A new gang, if you will, will appear, and that gang will be known as The Black Rose. This will allow us to both have the protection of the Ministry of Magic, as well as the flexibility for our operatives to work outside the restrictions of the law. But this can only work, however, if the two organizations are never connected. Understood?"

"Sir!"

"Thank you, Thorne," said Harry. "Sit down now, please."

Thorne resumed his seat.

"Rayne, do you understand now?" Harry asked, looking at her.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Good. Go do that, then."

Rayne, followed by five of the captains, got up and exited the throne room.

"And as for the rest of you," Harry said addressing those who remained, "Go, get some sleep. It'll be a long day tomorrow. Thorne, you stay."

As the other six people began to file out of the room, Thorne made his way over to the dais, and looked up at Harry.

"Well then, Thorne," said Harry, looking down, "How about you show me around this place."

~/\\/~

Ever since Cornelius Oswald Fudge was elected Minister for Magic, his daily schedule had remained virtually unchanged. And though his afternoons and evening were occasionally subjected to the inevitable modification that a meeting or fundraiser would bring, every ministry employee, indeed every one associated with Fudge, knew not to engage him at the expense of his morning ritual; his quiet contemplation and warm cup of tea were simply invaluable. Of course, if things did not turn around soon, he would not have to worry about being bothered much longer.

Thus, one could imagine the Minister's surprise when he found a letter on his desk before he even had the time to sit down and pour himself a cuppa.

"Weatherby," Fudge shouted from his office. "Weatherby!"

Fudge heard the screech of a quickly sliding of a chair and a set of quick footsteps, before seeing Percy's face pop in through the door way.

"Weatherby. What is this letter? Why _is _it here?" Fudge demanded, looking at the letter on his desk.

"A le- letter minister…?"

"A letter indeed Weatherby!"

Percy stammered out his response. "I don't know Minister… I certainly didn't put it there."

Fudge turned and saw the fearful expression on Percy's face.

"Oh… go away Weatherby," Fudge said. _Good for nothing assistant he is_. _Don't know _what _Crouch saw in him._

Percy scampered away from the door and back to his seat in the other room.

_Now, what do we have here._ Fudge made his way to his desk and flopped down in his chair. Though he wanted to ignore the letter, he found himself drawn toward it. For some reason, he just _had _to open it.

He picked it up and turned it over, examining the wax seal on the envelope. It was unfamiliar to him, merely a depiction of three towers. He opened it and began to read.

_Dear Minister Fudge,_

_I have urgent news that I must discuss with you, involving Dumbledore, and his plan to take control of the Ministry, indeed of the whole of England. It was only recently that I was able to escape his control, having discovered several curses placed on me to assure my loyalty to him and to bind my magic, and having been able to dispel them. Minister, you and I both need somewhere new to turn –– you, so that you can stay in power: I, so that I can gain the power that I need to protect myself. Fortunately, I have a proposition, that if carried out, will defeat both Dumbledore and Voldemort, assuring both of us our mutual safety and good fortune. _

_As this is a matter of extreme urgency, we have not the time to wait for your response to reach me by post. If Dumbledore finds me before we can speak, all will be lost. If you wish to discuss this further, merely tap your wand to this letter and say, "I accept." I implore you to be wise in your decision, Minster. If we do not act now, we may not have the chance again._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Cornelius Fudge's eyes widened, staring at the letter before him in utter disbelief. He could not believe it. It was… well it was simply too good to be true.

He drew his wand from his robe, and set it against the note. "I accept," he said firmly. Suddenly the writing on the page began to twist and swirl. _I shall see you in ten minutes, Minister, _Fudge read._ Prepare your floo._

Fudge bolted out of his office, and ran into the reception room where Percy sat bent over a stack of papers. Fudge was grinning so large that his smile almost seemed too big for his face.

"Weatherby!" Fudge exclaimed.

Percy looked up to see the ministers smiling face, completely confused by the whole affair.

"Cancel whatever I have today, Weatherby, it doesn't matter."

Percy looked at the minister in confusion as Fudge turned his back and retreated toward his office, half convinced that the Minister had simply gone mad.

"It's not all lost yet, Weatherby." Fudge said. "By Jove, it's not all lost yet!"

~/\\/~

"So… Harry… a secret police force?"

Harry sat across the desk from Fudge, reclining in his seat. Thorne sat next to him, his back straight in his chair, and his wand resting across his lap. Howle and Rayne stood at either side of the closed door, wands at the ready.

"A protective force, under the jurisdiction of the Ministry. One whose aim is to weed out all of the dangerous members of society. That includes the death eaters, _and_ Dumbledore's vigilantes. I mean, it's only a matter of time before someone gets hurt in the little game they're playing."

"You're quite right, Harry," Fudge said. He rested his face in his palm. "I mean, I always knew that Dumbledore wanted the job, but I never thought he would go _this_ low… Recruiting my own men from underneath me."

"Exactly, Minister. And see that is the precise reason why the agents' identities must be kept secret –– Dumbledore knows which aurors to avoid, but he wouldn't know to avoid a random Joe on the street."

Fudge looked at Harry appraisingly.

"Well, Harry, you have my support. But how will we sell it?" Fudge looked back toward Harry.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well to start out with, don't you think people will get nervous? With the hidden identities and all."

"Not at all, Minister," Harry replied. "It's for there own good. All we need is for the prophet to agree. The people will believe whatever the prophet tells them to. I mean… I think you proved that well enough last year…"

"Yes, well, I'm sorry about all that, Harry. But _that_ brings up another issue. The people don't trust you. They don't trust me. And they certainly won't believe that we've gone become friendly all of a sudden."

"Minister," Harry laughed, "That _was_ all a cover," Harry winked. "We didn't want Voldemort to know that we were on to him. We needed time to prepare."

"I quite like that thinking, Harry. But what about you? You just finished your OWLs. You're still in school."

"You've been training me in secret since my third year when Sirius Black escaped. And furthermore, I'll reclaim my seats in the Wizengamot later today. I'll be Lord Potter. Plus, as far as the public is concerned, I've defeated Voldemort four times already. Who is more qualified to lead that I?"

"Good… Very good indeed… I'm impressed, Harry. This is very well thought out. And you have the necessary men for the task?"

"Indeed I do, Minister. All houses that have sworn fealty to the Potter Family throughout the years."

"Well then, Harry. Why don't we tell everyone, then? A press conference, this evening perhaps?"

"I'm sorry, Minister, but I am quite busy. I don't know if I could make it then."

Fudge felt a nervousness creep up in his chest. He needed this to come out –– desperately.

"Maybe we could do it now instead?" Harry asked with an innocent expression.

Relief filled him as he heard those words. After stating his approval, and shaking Harry's hand, Fudge got up from his seat and walked toward the door, nervously looking at Howle and Rayne. Harry nodded his head from his seat by the desk, and the two moved apart to allow the Minister to pass.

Fudge made his way over to Percy. His nervous expression was replaced by the excitement he was feeling.

"Minister," Percy asked, "Is everything OK in there?"

"Oh Weatherby," replied Fudge, "It's more than OK. It's a godsend. If this goes through, you _and _I will be keeping our jobs. Now here's what I need you to do, Weatherby. Floo the prophet –– no, all the press –– and get them here as soon as possible…"

~/\\/~

Minerva McGonagall was known for many things: her scottish brogue, her mastery of the art of Transfiguration, her general primness, her steadfast love for the game of Quidditch. But one thing that none but her closest associates were aware of was her daily reading of the _Midday Review_.

The _Midday Review_ was one of the smallest magical papers in all of Magical Britain, though its one hundred some odd readers swore that it refrained from both the bias that plagued _The Daily Prophet_ and the absolute lunacy that was commonplace in _The Quibbler. _

So Minerva McGonagall was completely unsurprised when she heard the owl rap her window with its claws. She simply got up, let it in, and took the paper from its grasp (dues were payed monthly, unlike the Prophet). She was, however, very surprised when she unfolded the paper and read the headlines. In fact, she was shocked, more shocked than she had ever been before. So shocked, that the only course of action that seemed appropriate was to rush from her room in one of Hogwarts Castle's many towers all the way to the headmaster's office, so that she could shock him.

And so it came to pass that Albus Dumbledore sprung up in his chair as his deputy headmistress burst through his office door.

"Albus…" Minerva was panting to hard to say anything else.

Dumbledore was both scared and confused. Anything that could move Minerva to such a state was a cause for worry indeed. He rushed toward her.

"What? What is it?" Dumbledore asked in his grandfatherly manner, with a hint of genuine concern edging into his voice.

Still panting too hard to speak, Minerva thrust the paper into chest.

Dumbledore took it from her grasp, and began to read.

_MINISTER AND POTTER REVEAL SHOCKING PLAN IN SURPRISE MOVE_

_In a surprising midday press conference, Minister Cornelius Fudge and famed defeater of You-Know-Who Harry Potter, revealed their plan to counter You-Know-Who and protect the citizens of Wizarding Britain. It is called S.A.F.E, The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement. This new ministry department, under the direct command of Harry Potter himself, will be comprised of a select group of fighters whose task will be to find and capture all the wizards of Britain who seek to harm the public. It remains unclear, however, just how much leeway Potter's department will have in judiciary action. _

_"Though many of you might think of Lord Potter as an inexperienced wizard," said Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge at today's press conference, "This is far from the truth. Not only is he the only wizard to date that has defeated You-Know-Who four times and survived, but he has been trained by some of the best tutors in the world, at the Ministry's expense, since the escape of Sirius Black in his third year." _

_When asked about last year's smear campaign, Potter chose to answer. "It was actually my idea," claimed the sixteen year old. "We needed V*******t to be complete unaware of our actions, so that he wouldn't have time to prepare. My public image was a small price to pay for the security of our nation."_

_Though we have not yet had the time to see Potter's plan come to fruition, this reporter shares the hopes of countless others across the country, hopes that Potter truly can do as he says. For now, we hope for the best, wish The-Boy-Who-Lived luck, and give him our full support._

Dumbledore looked up from the paper, with a look of fury etched on his face. "What! How dare…" Dumbledore paced back to his desk, sat down, and took several very deep breaths. "Minerva, call the order. We need a meeting. Now."

~/\\/~

Harry Potter and his entourage marched through the large doorway of Gringotts Bank.

"My Lord," asked Thorne, "Are you sure this is the right way to go about this?"

Harry said nothing, though Thorne quickly quieted after seeing the look on his lord's face.

Harry motioned toward one of the unoccupied tellers behind the high wooden counter, and the four made their way across the polished floor.

"Yes?" The goblin asked, looking down at something on his side of the counter.

Harry proceeded seemingly unfazed by the goblin's blasé attitude. "I seek an audience with your leader, Ragnok."

"Oh?" The goblin scoffed, still looking down. "And who, may I ask, is requesting said audience?"

"The Lord Malkin of the Isle of Avalon, mortal heir of The Lord Sa himself, seeks said audience."

The goblin stilled, and raised his eyes to meet Harry's, and met a pair of glowing, jade eyes. The goblin stumbled backward in shock, and fell off of his stool with a loud crash.

Thorne shot Harry an inquisitive look.

"What," returned Harry, "I might as well have fun with it, no?"

AN: Please Review if you have any questions or comments –– they are read and appreciated.


	8. Surprises

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My characters and my plot are mine.

Previous Chapter:

The goblin stilled, and raised his eyes to meet Harry's, and met a pair of glowing, jade eyes. The goblin stumbled backward in shock, and fell off of his stool with a loud crash.

**Chapter Eight –– Surprises**

"Well, Lord Potter," Said Ragnok, "That is certainly most interesting. Or should I call you Lord Potter–Black?"

"Yes, I should prefer that." Harry said. He answered from across a narrow desk: Well, narrow to Harry. Wide in proportion to its owner.

Harry was surprised when he first saw the goblin leader. For after hearing the stories from Lazhan and Aldora and Thorne of the ferocity of the goblin nation, of the feats they accomplished when they fought for the Malkins during the first joining, Harry hardly expected Ragnok to stand barely at four feet tall.

Of course, that was only one of many surprises that Harry encountered that day in the bank.

It began with the goblin at counter who had seen Harry's eyes.

The goblin teller, who had heard of the Malkins in the same manner as the rest of his kind, through bedtime stories and parental cautions, had expected to see what any goblin would have expected to see when confronted with such an outrageous statement: a young, foolish wizard trying to impress those around him (though only from one of the Dark Families –– the light families had forgotten about the Malkins long ago, and nobody was keen on reminding them) . And indeed that _is_ what he saw when he looked up –– for Harry was young, he was trying to impress those around him (and frankly succeeding). But, unlike all the others who had claimed likewise in jest, it was clear to the goblin as he looked up that Harry was completely serious.

Indeed, there was no mistaking his identity. His pale skin, black hair, and glowing, swirling green eyes –– that would have been enough by itself to convince the goblin, for he had seen those same features woven into the tapestries that hung in caverns far below where he stood. But when the goblin looked directly at Harry's face, and locked eyes with him, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Harry was the who he claimed to be. For at that moment that goblin heard a voice inside his head who screamed "Now, goblin! NOW!"

The goblin recoiled in shock and promptly fell off the ledge supporting him. After several seconds of post - impact dizziness, he righted himself up, climbed back onto the ledge, looked at Harry, remembered why he had fallen, and began to shake. After all, if the stories he had heard were true, his life could have been ended at any second in retribution for his earlier rudeness. And so, he meekly stated "If you would follow me, my lord."

Harry (who by that time was doing all he could to stop himself from breaking out into laughter) and his entourage entered through a small opening in the wooden counter that the goblin had opened, and began to follow him: through a door, up one flight, a hall, two flights, and so forth.

Harry was surprised with what he saw. Gringotts was very different than what he had previously believed. He assumed that everything outside the entrance hall was part of the same set of tortuous tunnels in which the vaults were contained. But his surroundings seemed to be more akin to those of Hogwarts' than anything else. Large tapestries and moving paintings lined the stone walls. And every so often, the torchlight that illuminated the halls would fall on one of the many weapons mounted on the stone, causing them to light up and shine.

After several minutes of navigating the halls, the five people, four human and their goblin guide, arrived at a set of heavy doors. After asking Harry to stay for a moment, the goblin knocked twice

"Yes?" Harry heard a voice from inside ask.

The goblin pushed one of the doors forward, barely enough for a sliver of light to spill from the office into the hall.

"Lord Ragnok," the goblin replied, "_He _is here to see you."

"Who is?" the voice said with a flat tone.

"_He _is my lord. _He _is. He's come back."

"Who is, damn it? Who is?" the voice inside, Ragnok's voice, shouted irritatedly.

The goblin replied with a low whisper, only barely audible and hardly comprehendible: "Malkin"

Harry heard a crash from inside the room, as if a cup or plate had fallen and smashed, a the screech of a chair sliding across the floor. Within seconds, Ragnok arrived at the door. And when he looked at the _he _in question, he got the biggest shock of his life: Ragnok was looking at Harry Potter. _The _Harry Potter.

Ragnok did the only thing he could do.

"Lord Potter… Malkin… please come in." Ragnok said while motioning to the other goblin to go.

Harry, Thorne, Howle, and Rayne entered through the open door. Without speaking, Howle and Rayne stopped to stand at either side of the opening, Harry conjured a chair next to a narrow wooden desk that he presumed was Ragnok's, and Thorne came to stand where his Lord now sat. Ragnok, watching from the doorway, was amazed.

Hiding his feelings well ( he was the leader of the Goblin Nation, don't forget), Ragnok closed the door, and crossed the room to face Harry.

"Lord Potter," he said, sitting down, "It is a great surprise to see you here. Especially … in this capacity."

"Indeed, Ragnok." Harry replied. "Believe me, I'm surprised as well."

Harry was, in fact, surprised, though less by the situation, and more by his surroundings. The office was not what he had expected. It was rather like the minister's, what with the wooden desk and leather chairs and shelves of books; it was easily distinguishable, however, for everything in this office was at least twice as small as in the other.

"Congratulations on your new appointment. Though, it makes much more sense now that you've come here."

"Yes, thank you." Harry did not seem eager for small talk.

Ragnok was not either.

"Well then, Lord Potter, let's begin."

Ragnok reached underneath his desk and took out a small, black bowl, and a knife. He reached across the desk, and placed them in front of Harry.

Harry looked at it, motionless, as if to say, what am I supposed to do with this?

Ragnok explained.

"Well, Lord Potter, I need some of your blood in the bowl."

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at Ragnok questioningly.

"It will help me ascertain who you are. Not that I don't believe you, of course," Ragnok quickly corrected, "But it's necessary in order to open your vault. And it will allow us to see if you have any other vaults to claim as well."

Now, the situation surprised Harry as well. It had not dawned on him that there would be a Malkin Vault at Gringotts. Indeed, Harry was left wondering just how old Gringotts actually was…

"Alright then," Harry finally said, "How will you tell."

Ragnok pulled a large sheaf of parchment from his desk and laid it next to the bowl.

"After you deposit the blood," Ragnok said, "I'll perform a quick spell and pour it on the parchment. The information will write itself."

Harry picked up the knife, cut his palm. Ten or so drops of blood pooled in the bottom of the small bowl before Ragnok stopped him.

The goblin picked up the bowl in both hands, and began to incant. The bowl began to glow the more he chanted. Suddenly, Ragnok flipped the bowl upside down on top of the parchment. The glow of the bowl seemed to slip from it to the parchment, and soon it was glowing too. After several seconds, all was still.

Ragnok removed the bowl, and revealed a bound sheaf of parment full of words and figures.

"Well, Lord Potter," Ragnok said grasping the stack, "Let's see what we have here."

Ragnok began to the read the tome before him. He was shocked. He could not believe what he read. It was absolutely … well unbelievable.

"Well?" Harry prompted.

"Y- Y- Yes," Ragnok began with a quick stutter, "Well, Lord Potter, it seems like you are inheriting quite a bit."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Well… you're inheriting the Potter Vault, Black Vault, Malkin Vault, Gryffindor Vault, and Slytherin Vault directly," Ragnok began to flip the pages, "and it seems that quite a few non-related families have willed you their vaults as well. It seems you are quite popular, My Lord."

"My lord, goblin?"

"Well, the alliance still stands." Ragnok said, more with a tone of questioning hopefulness than that of a resolute statement. "I mean, you are the Malkin Lord on earth, and as such I and the entire goblin nation will serve you as we served the Lord Sa himself. We are yours to command."

Harry was unsurprised. _This _was the purpose of his visit. Sa did tell him that the goblins would be useful allies –– even more useful than they were during the first joining of the worlds. After all, to control the nation's money is to control the nation… and from what Harry understood, the goblins were fierce fighters as well.

Suddenly Harry started.

"Wait," Harry said, "Did you say Black?"

"Indeed I did, My Lord," Ragnok replied. "It appears that The Late Lord Black declared you his heir in his will. All his property is yours, including his vault."

Now, had this transaction occurred just two days prior (in the mortal world's time), Harry would have broken down into a mess of sentimentality upon hearing of his late godfather's actions. And indeed, that was the reaction that Ragnok would have expected had he not already spoken to Harry for several minutes. For partly due to the truth, and partly due to exaggeration, Harry's reputation as an emotional roller-coaster proceeded him.

But Harry was different now. Ever since the ritual, he lacked the warmth that made a mortal heart mortal, and Ragnok could sense that.

"So…" Harry began "That means that Grimlaud place is mine. Number 12 Grimlaud Place."

Ragnok flipped ahead in the parchments to a list entitled _Properties_.

"Indeed," Ragnok said, "It appears that all the Black Properties belong to you."

_Excellent_, Harry thought to himself, _the order won't be meeting there any more then… _

Suddenly a different thought rushed into Harry's head –– something he read once, or perhaps something that Hermione had told him: if a person changes their name in the wizarding world, they have clear basis for declaring all previous agreements void. Now of course, it logically followed that it was difficult to change one's name. But if he could, well that would allow him to avoid any potential legal plots that Dumbledore was planning.

"Ragnok?" Harry asked, "If I am now the lord of these other houses, can I change my name?"

Ragnok was unsurprised by the request. In fact, he had been expecting it.

"Indeed you can, My Lord." Ragnok reached down and withdrew a final parchment from his desk. "You will need to sign here to claim your inheritance," Ragnok pointed to the line. "Just sign it with however many last names you wish, and it shall become your new legal title."

Harry picked up the quill, and held it above the parchment. It hovered there for several seconds as he thought.

"Are the name changes on file, Ragnok?"

"Yes, My Lord. Anyone with access to the department of records at the ministry could find it. Well, technically all property holdings are on file at the ministry, but they can only be accessed with special permission granted by the minister –– and for some reason, I doubt that he would grant anyone access to yours," Ragnok finished with a toothy grin.

_Well then, _Harry thought, _no need to play my hand too soon. It wouldn't do for Dumbledore to catch wind of the plan. Old goat, he's the only one of them that probably _has _heard of the Malkins..._

Harry steadied the quill against the parchment and wrote out _Harry James Potter Black. _

Ragnok took the quill and parchment and returned them to the drawer. "Well then, My Lord, everything is yours."

"Wait. Just how much is mine, Ragnok?"

"Here," Ragnok handed Harry the bound sheaf of parchments. "It's too much to go through here and now, but rest assured you need not want for money… nor property for that matter."

Harry took the tome from the goblin's hand and handed it to Thorne, still standing at his side, not bothering to review it.

"Well then, My Lord, is that all?"

Harry turned his gaze back to the goblin. "Almost, Ragnok. Hold out your arm if you would."

Ragnok held out his left arm, not daring to defy his master.

Harry reached out his arm and touched his finger to goblin's forearm, where the skin and flesh cover the space between the ulna and radius. As if touching water, black ink began to ripple away from Harry's fingertip, spilling across the goblin's skin. Harry drew his hand back, and suddenly the ink took the shape of a long almond eye, the pupil having formed where Harry had first touched. The ink was motionless for a moment, before erupting into a bright, coppery red glow.

Ragnok let out a scream and clutched his arm to his chest, slumping down in his seat. The pain was greater than anything Ragnok had ever felt before, but luckily it was as quick as it was torturous. Ragnok extended his forearm before him to gaze at the eye now etched into his skin. As he looked, the eye closed and faded away.

"My-… My Lord," Ragnok said, panting from the pain, "What…"

"You are mine now, Ragnok," Harry stated calmly. "I can see through your eyes, I can speak through your mouth, I can hear with your ears, and feel with your hands; I can see in you, Ragnok. And I will always be able to do so."

Ragnok suddenly recalled the image, remembering seeing it woven into several of the tapestries that lined the walls, and above some of the portraits of his great ancestors who had lived in the time of Sa. "It is an honor to serve, My Lord," he replied.

"Indeed it is, Ragnok. Indeed it is."

~/\\/~

Nymphadora Tonks walked alongside her partner Auror Donald Brown as they made their way down Diagon Alley's cobblestone path. The two were on their way to an emergency order meeting that Albus had called for that evening (Auror Brown was one of the order's newest recruits). Despite the fact that Albus, like always, had failed to mention the emergency at hand, Tonks had a pretty good idea of what it was.

She had been standing in the break room assigned to the aurors in the Department of Law Enforcement in the Ministry when Rufus had come in with the announcement. S.A.F.E he called it.

At first Tonks could not believe it. Though she _did _know that Harry had run away, she never thought that he would do something like this, never thought that he even could do something like this. In fact, it was only until she saw the press conference in the main hall of the ministry from the break room window (which was situated on the fifth floor and overlooked the hall) that it truly sunk in.

Thus, she was completely unsurprised when she felt the phoenix pendant around her neck grow hot shortly before lunch. Nor was she surprised when the words _7:00, Hogwarts' Headmaster's Office_, popped into her head as she touched it. This was the main way the order communicated. Well, the way Dumbledore communicated to the order.

And so, considering both Tonks and her partner had the same destination, and that the walk down from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts gates seemed to pass faster when walking in pairs, Donald agreed to accompany her on pre-meeting errand when their shift ended at 5:30.

The two suddenly found themselves in front of the large marble steps that signified Gringotts to the outside world. As each one of them had done numerous times in the past, they climbed the steps, and entered into the large hall of counters and tellers, searching for an open space. But this time, instead of her eye's resting on an open station, Tonks' eyes fell on Harry Potter.

When she had seen him earlier from her window overlooking the press conference, she had attributed his altered appearance to a trick of the light. But now that she saw him clearly, and it was unmistakably him for anyone who knew Harry Potter, she realized that he did indeed look different.

He was taller now, with his hair having become impossibly blacker and his eyes impossibly more viridescent. Indeed, he looked more regal, more like a lord; and that was without factoring in the black clad entourage emerging with him from a set of double doors in the far wall that Tonks had never noticed before.

She nudged her partner with her elbow and motioned with her head across the room towards Harry. "Look," she whispered tensely, "He's there."

"Who's ther- oh…" Donald saw Harry start across the room. Donald turned towards Tonks. "We need to tell Albus!"

"We'll do better than that."

Tonks saw the look of confusion on her partner's face. "Albus said we need to return Harry back to his relatives. Let's bring him to Albus. I mean, we are two aurors. How much can he do?" she explained with a huff.

"I don't know, Tonks," Donal began, "I mean he is technically our boss and ––"

Donald stopped speaking as Tonks drew herself to her full hight and marched across the room. "Harry Potter," she yelled, "You are coming with me."

Everyone in the hall turned to look at the source of the commotion. But before they could barely turn their heads, Harry's wand was in his hand, and a jet a red light erupted across the room, catching Tonks directly in her midsection and tossing her back towards Donald.

Donald stood there, dazed and astonished as everyone else, before realizing that _his _partner was lying in a heap several yards away from him, motionless. He rushed over and knelt by her.

"Tonks," he whispered frantically. "Tonks, wake up."

He was about to take out his wand and try to renervate her when he felt a weight pressing on his back that forced him to the floor. Suddenly, he felt two pairs of hands grab his arms, and pull him up so that he dangled between them, his feet not quite able to make solid contact with the floor. One hand grabbed his head and turned forward.

"Auror Brown, is it?" Harry asked, suddenly standing in front of him.

From the corner of his eye, Donald saw the man that had been walking at Harry's right bend down over Tonks' prone frame. "My Lord," the man said.

"Take her to The Tower, Thorne," Donald heard Harry say. "She is to be interrogated. I suspect that there is… _foul _play involved."

Thorne chuckled softly as he raised his wand. An arc of blue light emerged from it and hit Tonks, who disappeared in a portkey like swirl.

Donald blinked quickly several times trying to relocate her in his sight, not quite realizing that she was gone.

"Well, Auror Brown," continued Harry, "There should not be any more problems no, right."

Donald was motionless, still too shocked to truly register the situation. He saw Harry motion with his hand, and felt himself fall in a heap to the floor, no longer suspended.

"And, Auror Brown," Harry remarked in an offhand way, "Come to my office tomorrow. This _will_ be discussed."

The auror remained on the ground for quite some time, processing the situation, still reeling from shock. When it finally sunk in he jumped to his feat and wildly threw his gaze from side to side. But he was too late. His partner was no where to be found, Harry and his entourage were gone, and everyone else in the bank seemed to be carrying on as normal.

And at that, he rushed towards the doors.

~/\\/~

Dumbledore surveyed the crowd around him from behind his large desk. Almost the entire order was there, with only Lupin and another werewolf associate of his absent due to the time of the month. But everyone else looked well, looked animated, conversing among themselves in small groups throughout the packed office. But one particularly lively member, he noticed, was conspicuously absent from the small talk, as was his normal small talk partner: Donald Brown sat by himself brooding in the corner of the room, and that was worrying.

Dumbledore raised his hand and began.

"Friends…"

Everyone ended their conversations and turned to face him, eager to discover the topic of the night's meeting.

"I have a matter of grave importance to bring to your attention," Dumbledore continued. "It appears that Harry has joined forces with the ministry, and that Fudge has declared him the head of a new secret police force with the authority to arrest anyone anywhere and at any time."

Dumbledore withdrew McGonagall's copy of the _Midday Review _from his robes and read it out loud to the group, interspersing the reporting with a bit of his own commentary every few sentences.

He looked up when he was done. His followers looked simultaneously confused and betrayed, bewildered at how the young boy had managed to pull a fast one on the leader of the light, and outraged that he had done so in the first place. In fact, many of them, especially some redheads pressed against the headmaster's desk, looked as though they wanted to march out of the office at that instant and teach Harry a lesson.

Dumbledore, keen to start damage control, quickly continued.

"Of course, we really don't know how much of a threat this really poses," he said with a confident air. "I mean, we have yet to see Harry or these select fighters."

Still, his words did little to change the minds of his listeners, their emotions clear on their faces. Though, the reactions of each individual began to differ. While Ronald, his mother, and Hermione continued to look livid at the news, Fred and George wore a more curious expression, as if they were investigating the results of a new experiment of theirs. Their expression was quite similar to that of Alastair Moody, who was standing fairly close to them. And at the far end of the room, Severus Snape's face lit up with hope for the first time in nearly two decades.

Suddenly, a low voice rang out from the back of the room: "Professor."

Everyone, including the professor in question, turned to seek its source. They quickly identified it as Auror Donald Brown.

"Ah, Donald," Dumbledore replied with his grandfatherly tone, "Would you like to add something?"

"You're wrong."

"Wh- What?" Dumbledore asked, startled. It had been some time since anyone, never mind an order member, had spoken to him so brusquely.

"I saw them. Today. Tonks and I both saw them, Harry and three others at the bank. And now Tonks is missing."

~/\\/~

"The nerve of him!" shouted Ronald as he stomped from the fireplace toward where Hermione and his mother were already sitting. "I mean, like he wasn't famous enough, no, he had to do this too!"

"Ronald," his mother shouted, irate, "Get over yourself already. There are more important things to worry about. The order's vault at Gringotts is almost empty, and Dumbledore was going to use Harry to fill it. Do you think robes and books grow on trees, Ron?"

Ronald flopped into the chair next to Hermione, grumbling to himself about big headed scar faces.

Hermione, on the other hand, was silent, a rare circumstance indeed. She just could not wrap her head around it.

Finally, she spoke. "It's just…" she began, her hand messing the hair on her forward, "I mean, how could he do this? How could he turn his back on Dumbledore? I mean, he's Dumbledore…"

Right then, Ginny walked into the kitchen, attracted from upstairs by the sudden noise.

"Well," she said making her way to the table as well, "What happened this time? You all look as though you've seen a ghost!"

She sat down across from her brother.

"Merlin, Ginny," Ron answered, "You are not going to _believe_ what he did this time."

"Who?" Ginny asked.

"Potter! That's who, I dunno how he did it but it's bloody unbelievable!"

"Ronald," Hermione said, suddenly jarred out of her stupor, "Language."

"_Whatever, _Hermione," he said with a sigh.

"Well," Ginny prompted, her curiosity piqued, "Out with it then."

Ron explained to her the situation as best he could. By the time he finished, she was nearly in tears.

Ginny ran over to the counter where he mother stood mixing something or another in a large pot.

"Mum!" she wailed, "What about _my_ money. Harry won't want anything to do with me, not now!"

Hermione, though she remained quiet, thought that the girl was being incredibly naive. Didn't she know there were larger issues at hand…

"Don't worry, Ginny," her mother attempted to console her. "Professor Dumbledore has called for another meeting tomorrow morning for those who can make it. To discuss what we're going to do about this. I'll ask him tomorrow. Don't worry. It'll be alright."

And as the four moaned and complained, none of them notice a pair of redheads, twins, shooting them looks of absolute disgust from sitting room.

AN: I apologize for the wait –– traveling does that. If you like it, please review. It is appreciated.


	9. SAFE Order No 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All my characters, and my plot, are mine.

**Chapter Nine –– S.A.F.E Order No. 1 **

Almost everyone that returned to Dumbledore's office the following morning carried a folded copy of the _Daily Prophet _tucked neatly under their arms. The majority of the order was not present; most of them had jobs to go to, or something or another to take care of. In fact, only ten people sat around Dumbledore's desk that morning: Minerva McGonagall, Hestia Jones, Severus Snape, Dedalus Diggle, Mad-eye Moody, Molly Weasley, Hermione, Ron, and George (Fred would have come too but he was manning their newly purchased shop on Diagon Alley), and Donald Brown.

The ten sat in silence, waiting for the headmaster to call the meeting to session. After a very tensely silent minute, Dumbledore did.

"Are Arthur and Kingsley not coming then?" Dumbledore asked.

"Arthur had to go to work this morning, Albus," Molly explained.

"And Kingsley?" Dumbledore said turning his gaze toward Donald.

"All the Aurors were called in this morning. I think that there's going to be another announcement. Has to do with Tonks I reckon. Th'only reason I'm here is because Kingsley can cover for me as my unit leader. Tell everyone I'm sick or something."

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. The thought of another announcement was worrying indeed. And in that case, they needed to start planning right away.

"All of you have read the article, I presume."

The occupants of the room all nodded their heads yes, though some more vigorously than others.

"Well then, I think that before we begin to talk about how we are going to stop this from continuing, I think we should address what has already happened. I'm referring to Tonks specifically."

Dumbledore looked around the room, his glance met with a myriad of emotions ranging from anger to concern.

"Donald," he continued, "I want you to tell us exactly what happened."

The auror cleared his voice several times before beginning. "Well, professor, it was like I told you. Tonks and I were walking into the bank 'cause she had to make a withdrawal or something when we saw Harry and three blokes in black walking right across the floor."

"Did you see where they came from, Donald?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Yeah, we did now that you mention it. They came out of some sort of door in the wall past where the counter ends. Funny, though. I don't remember ever seeing it before."

A look of surprise filled Dumbledore's face for a moment before he recollected himself. _So he was meeting with the goblins_… he thought. _But who exactly could he have been seeing… _

"Carry on if you would, Donald."

"Well, Tonks decides to go over and get him. You know, bring him back here. So she starts marching over and she yells 'Harry Potter, you're coming with me.' Well, she barely got the words out when a spell caught her right in the stomach and tossed her all the way back to me."

"Did you see who casted it?"

"Well it must of been Potter, right? He was the only one with a wand out. Anyway, I saw that she wasn't moving so I rushed over to see if she was alright. And then all of a sudden I felt this pressure on my back, like someone was pushing a weight on me. Pushed me all the way to the floor it did. Then 'fore I knew it, two of 'em had me held up by the arms, Tonks was gone, and Potter was telling me to report to the Dep. of Safety office today."

"Did you see where they took Tonks?"

The Auror shook his head from side to side.

"It was all a blur, really, headmaster. I just remember Potter saying something like, 'Take her to The Tower.'"

The name sparked something in Dumbledore's memory, as if he had heard of it once before, years ago, but had long since forgotten it. But for some reason, Dumbledore felt that the name was the key to solving the current situation.

"I think we need to drag the boy back here and put an end to this nonsense," said Molly with an indignant tone. "I mean, who does he think he is?"

"Yes, Molly, thank you," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle.

"While that would be nice and all," interjected Moody suddenly, "We don't have a bloody chance to do it."

"Alastair?" Dumbledore asked.

"Whether we like it or not, the boy is the head of a ministry department. What are we supposed to do? Smuggle him back here and demand that he quit? No that will never work…"

"You're quite right, Alastair, you're quite right…" Dumbledore replied. "I think that we need to speak to Harry; we need to get him to see sense. In fact, it would be counterproductive for him to quit. What we need to do is convince him to come back to the order, and then _we _can use this new department for the fight against Voldemort. We need to talk to him!"

Dumbledore finished his small speech by slapping his palm against his desk, prompting the majority of the room to break out into a chorus of applause and hear-hears

Moody looked around the room at his fellows. Only two people besides himself did not demonstrate their approval at the headmaster's plan: Severus Snape, and George Weasley. He wondered what their reasons were, how theirs compared to his own.

Personally, Moody wanted to delay any action until they could see what the Potter boy would do. Perhaps this was the answer that the light had been waiting for, that the wizarding world had been waiting for, that he had been waiting for.

He had long thought that Albus wasn't handling the war correctly. Even during the first time, Moody thought that merely imprisoning the Death Eater, merely fighting with stunners, was not enough. But what other choice did he have really? A ministry that did not even recognize that a war was being waged?

"I think we should write him a letter," Dumbledore declared, suddenly extracting Moody from his thoughts.

"Good idea, Albus," Molly said eagerly. "But what will we say?"

"Well," Albus replied. "Why don't we just ask?" he chuckled.

He picked up his quill and started writing.

_Harry…_

~/\\/~

Severus Snape strolled up the walkway to the doors of the Greengrass Manor looking better than he had in years: he held his head up high, his hair seemed less greasy, and a smile had taken the place of his normal scowl. In short, Severus Snape had found an answer, and that answer had made him happy.

He passed the flowers and hedges of the manicured gardens, and soon found himself entering the Foyer.

"Severus."

Snape turned, interrupted from his walking, to look at the source of the voice. It was a man, with shoulder length black hair and grey eyes, dressed in the finest of robes.

"Cyrus?" Snape responded.

Snape had known Cyrus Greengrass for a long time –– ever since his own time at Hogwarts. There was an age disparity of course, Snape having been in his first year and Cyrus in his seventh. But yet, in the manner of the Slytherin house, the two had come to know each other well, a sort of mentor to mentored relationship.

"You're here for the lesson then, Severus?" Cyrus asked, crossing the room towards Snape.

"Of course."

Suddenly Cyrus grasped Snape's upper arm and leaned close to his ear.

"Severus, Ragnok sent me a letter. He said that I, and the rest of the Dark Assembly, should expect to be summoned. Summoned, Severus!"

Snape looked at Cyrus with confusion.

"I don't understand, Cyrus."

"Severus, you know the legends as well as I. There is only _one_ person that could summon _me_ to a meeting of the Assembly." His whispers became harsher, more tense.

"You don't think ––"

"What else could it be, Severus?"

Snape took a moment to digest the information, and did the wisest thing he could; he ignored it.

"I have news too, Cyrus," Snape said, swallowing. "Draco and the others have decided that they don't want to join the Dark Lord. Well, Draco, Pansy, and Millicent have. Zabini, Tracy, and _your _daughter never were going to in the first place."

"Draco plans to reoccupy the Malfoy seat on the council?"

"I believe so. Parkinson too. She hasn't any male relatives, you know."

"You know he can't do that until Lucius dies. Only the head of a family can occupy a seat…"

They both took a moment to mull over the information.

"Well, Cyrus, I best be going down now," Snape said, shaking them both from their thoughts.

"Yes, Indeed. I'll let you know if anything happens."

Snape merely nodded before turning away and walking to the labs.

He arrived at the lab several minutes later, strolling into the room where his pupils were waiting. They were huddling together, bent over a desk as though they were reading something.

Draco turned when he heard his godfather enter.

"Is it true then, Professor? What they've written about Potter?"

The others turned to look at their professor as well, all interested in what he had to say on the matter.

"Indeed it is, Draco."

"Well?"

"Potter's done this on his own, Draco. He _ran_ _away_ from Dumbledore, he _joined forces _with the Ministry. He even _arrested _one of Dumbledore's group!"

Snape's voice became more excited as he continued.

"Draco, don't you see? This is the answer!"

"The answer to what… oh, oh no. You _can't _be serious. Potter! You want me to go crawling to Potter and ask _him _to help me?"

His godfather smiled wider in response.

"It might be your best option, Draco," Pansy interjected from the side. "I'm willing to try it."

Draco looked at her with an expression of outrage.

"Me too," Millicent added.

Draco looked at the three of them, outrage turning to disbelief.

"What?" Pansy defended. "I need help as much as you do. You know that I don't want to go to Dumbledore, but it looks like Potter isn't with him anymore."

Draco's jaw nearly hit the floor.

"What's the worst that could happen, Draco?" she asked. "Let's at least write him a letter. See if we can speak to him."

"Indeed, Pansy, I think that would be for the best."

The two were startled by their professor's comments, having almost forgotten that he was there.

"As it is, Draco, I am looking for a way out too. It's only a matter of time before Dumbledore is defeated, and the Dark Lord has completely lost his mind."

Daphne and Blaise wore smug expressions on their faces. After all, if Severus had just _stayed _with the Dark Assembly instead of gallivanting off to the Dark Lord, he wouldn't be in this mess.

"For the first time, Potter seems to be offering a viable alternative. Draco, this could be our way out. We _need_ to write to him."

Draco was silent. He just could not bring himself to accept it… It was Potter! Scar head! It was almost as bad as asking Dumbledore. But what was the alternative? _At least Potter won't kill me…_

_"_Fine," Draco huffed. "Let's write the bloody letter."

~/\\/~

The clock had already struck two by the time Thorne saw Harry the next day. He was sitting in the throne room, perched on one of the velvet settees against the long walls, when his lord walked in.

"Thorne," Harry commanded, "Call the others. I want them here. Now."

"My Lord!" Thorne said, startled by Harry's sudden appearance. "My Lord, these came for you. I haven't opened them yet."

Thorne held up several envelopes.

"We'll address them later, Thorne. Call the council."

Within minutes Harry was seated atop his throne, and his council was seated in a semi circle below, looking up at him.

"Everyone," Harry began in his commanding voice, "It is time that we begin to exercise our power. Rayne, take this down. Three copies please: one for Fudge, one for the Ministry's afternoon announcements, and one for _The Prophet. _

Rayne waved her wand, and a small writing table appeared before her, ink, quill, and parchment upon her.

"Are you ready, Rayne?"

"Yes, My Lord."

Harry began to dictate:

_S.A.F.E Order No. 1_

_Due to a recent arrest, we, the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement, have found that there are some employes of the Ministry for Magic who have their loyalties divided between the Ministry and one or more vigilante groups. This is entirely unacceptable, and constitutes an act of treason. _

_Fortunately, we do not believe that the number of treasonous Ministry employees is large. Nevertheless, in these dark times, we cannot be too cautious. People who pose a danger to the liberty and safety of the public must be found and dealt with accordingly. Therefore, we, the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement, hereby enact the following measures. _

_1. Henceforth, all groups in which the loyalty of its members is politically, legally, and socially divided between the Ministry and the group's leader are hereby banned. Anyone who is found to be acting in violation of this order shall be arrested and prosecuted._

_2. In order to ascertain the security of our Ministry, all Ministry employees will be subject to one formal interrogation, and frequent random checks, to ascertain both their loyalties and their health (i.e freedom from behavior altering charms, potions, spells, etc.). This is nonnegotiable. Any Ministry employee who wishes to resign from their post must submit a valid reason of resignation, and undergo a formal interrogation. Anyone who fails to do so will be arrested and prosecuted._

_3. The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement will henceforth have sole jurisdiction over Azkaban prison and those incarcerated therein. The Department has the sole authorization to access the isle, as well as the sole authorization to incarcerate anyone therein. To that end, the Department shall immediately embark to review the prisoners of Azkaban prisoners, and shall resentence all of them, some with lighter sentences, some with heavier. Anyone found on or around Azkaban without proper authorization, as well as anyone found to have any connection to the aforementioned, will be arrested and prosecuted._

_4. In order to expedite the process of securing both the Ministry and the nation, the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement retains the right to (1) suspend _Habeas Corpus_ (2) prosecute suspects without the DMLE courts (3) sentence suspects without the aid of the Wizengamot. _

_Said measures shall be considered by all to be in effect; their contents are binding. _

_The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement thanks you for your compliance and trust._

"Did you get that, Rayne?"

Rayne waved her wand once more; three parchments now laid where there had only been one.

"Yes, My Lord."

"Go. Send them."

Rayne rose from her seat, bowed, and sped out of the room.

Harry turned in his chair towards where Thorne was sitting at the opposite end of the semi circle.

"Now then, Thorne, what about those letters?"

Thorne held up the scrolls so that his lord could see.

"Yes, Thorne, those letters. Read them to me. Yes, Thorne, out loud."

"Very well, My Lord."

Thorne set the envelopes, keeping just one in his hand. He quickly slid his crooked finger under the fold, breaking the wax seal, and removed the letter from within. Straightening the parchment with a small crackle, he began:

_Harry,_

_I understand that you are upset with me, but we need to talk. It is imperative that you return to the order and the safety that we can provide. Now, I'm not sure where you are, so perhaps we could meet in some pre-arranged spot? You can pick; Diagon Alley, maybe? The order needs you, Harry._

_Please write me back as soon as possible,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

"Merlin…" Harry said with a shake of his head. "Thorne, put that one aside for later. Next!"

Thorne reached into the pile and picked up a different one. "The next one, My Lord."

_Dear Harry,_

_It's us, Fred and George. We need to talk to you, mate. First of all, we want you to know that we don't agree with Dumbledore –– we're behind you 100%. Second, we want to make sure you know that Mum, Ron, Ginny, and it looks like Hermione, feel completely opposite. We won't write here what they said in case this is intercepted, but we think that you should know. Tell us if we can help –– we owe you._

_Fred and George_

"Alright," Harry said. "I like that one much better. We'll respond to that one after we've read the others. How many more are there?"

"Just one, My Lord."

"Very well."

For the third time, Thorne began to read aloud.

_Mr. Potter,_

_This letter may come as a surprise to you given the nature of our relationship –– Merlin knows that it's a surprise to me –– but I have something important to request. I, Severus Snape, on behalf of my charges Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode, request an audience with you in your capacity as head of the Department for Safety and Freedom Enforcement. As it stands, the three aforementioned students of mine will shortly be forced into joining the Dark Lord against their will. Dumbledore is obviously not an option (you might agree). After speaking, we have decided that you are the only viable source of aid. _

_As for myself, I seek freedom from both the Order and the Death Eaters. I do not know if you can help me, but I beg you, please find a way. _

_Sincerely, _

_Severus Snape_

Harry said nothing. He sat in silence, in shock, upon his throne. He had never expected, not in a million years, to hear that which he had just heard.

Harry remained silent for another minute, his hands steepled in front of him, his brow wrinkled in concentration. Suddenly, he began to speak.

"Thorne," Harry finally said. "Find supplies. We have letters to write."

~/\\/~

Severus Snape was sitting in his favorite chair when he heard the tapping. Initially he was upset; he had been reading a particularly interesting article on rare potions, something which he had been meaning to do for some time, but neglected for some reason. Perhaps it was because the article reminded him in some way of all the things he had yet to do. For he neither wrote the article nor was featured within.

He had not wanted his life to turn out the way it had. In his youth, Snape had dreamed of great things. He wanted to discover the next Wolfsbane, to become the next great master. But life set him on a different course. But maybe Potter could change that…

The tapping continued. Snape looked from side to side, surveying the dark room, trying to find the source of the noise. He quickly discovered it: an owl, rapping its talons against the thick glass window of his sitting room wall.

Snape crossed the room and opened the window. The owl flew in, leaving the twilight and entering the room. Snape walked to where the owl had landed, and picked up an envelope from where the owl had dropped it.

Snape flipped over the blank envelope and studied the seal. _That doesn't belong to any family that I know, _he thought as he made his way back to his chair. _Three towers… I wonder who it's from…_

Snape broke the seal and began to read.

It only took him a moment to finish. When he had done so, he folded the parchment, placed it in his pocket, and promptly apparated away.

~/\\/~

At the same time, though nearly half the country away, Cyrus Greengrass was enjoying a cup of tea in his study. He was reading a piece of correspondence from his good friend Alexander Zabini. Alexander and Cyrus had known each other for years, the two having kindled their association even before their years at Hogwarts. And as such, it was only natural that when Cyrus was voted head of the Assembly of The Dark Families (the Dark Assembly, as it was called), Alexander was appointed his second-in-command.

_Dear Cyrus,_

_My sister is well, thank you for asking, though I do believe that her current husband is starting to feel…under the weather. Blaise doesn't particularly mind, not that he saw much of him anyway, what with him living with me when he's not at Hogwarts._

_Pleasantries aside, allow me to address the matter at hand. As it is, I too have received a letter from the goblins warning me of the same thing. Naturally, I have come to the same conclusion that you have, though I find it difficult to believe. _

Cyrus's attention was suddenly drawn away from the letter by a tapping sound. Turning, he saw an owl hovering outside his window, waiting to be let in.

Cyrus drew his wand and pointed it at the window, which suddenly popped open as though an invisible hand had pulled on the pane.

The owl swept in, and dropped an envelope at Cyrus' feet. He bent over and picked it up. _Strange, _he thought _no name. _He flipped it over to look at the seal. _Three towers… where have I seen that before?_

He opened the letter began to read.

Only several seconds had elapsed by the time Cyrus was done, though it felt to him like an eternity. Shaking, he rushed across the room to the fireplace, and grabbed a small jar from above the mantle. He opened it, threw a handful of green powder into the flames, and stuck his head inside after it.

"ALEXANDER!" He shouted. "ALEXANDER!"

AN: Reviews are welcome and appreciated. Thank you Emtherebble and Hammy for yours.


	10. Reducto

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My characters, and my plot, and mine.

**Chapter Ten –– Reducto**

Draco stood in the Foyer of Malfoy manner, impatiently tapping his polished shoe on the equally polished marble flagstones. He checked his watch. There were only five minutes left until ten, until his godfather was meant to arrive.

He still could not believe it, really. To him, the thought of Potter agreeing to speak to them was even more preposterous than asking him in the first place!

He checked again: three minutes. He began to pace back and forth across the room. Severus was due to arrive at any moment with the letter.

Draco could remember every word of it from when his godfather had shoved it towards his face the night before after bursting in like a mad man.

_Mr. Snape,_

_After much consideration, I have decided to grant you your request. Though I do not guarantee you aid by any means, for I know neither the specifics of your problem nor the intent behind your actions, I do agree to listen to what you have to say. _

_If you and Draco, for I believe his is the most pressing case, would gather together tomorrow morning at ten o'clock precisely, and treat this letter as though it were a portkey, you will find your way to me._

_Sincerely, _

_Lord Harry Potter Black_

_Head of the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement_

Draco heard the door open. He glanced at his watch before turning to see his godfather enter.

"Godfather," Draco greeted him.

"Draco," Snape returned. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, quite," he replied. "You it have?"

Snape removed the letter from where he had tucked it inside his robes and waved it for his godson to see.

"It's right here."

"Excellent."

Draco looked at his watch one last time.

"Hurry, godfather, we have less than a minute left."

The two crowded together, each with a hand on the parchment. After a few seconds, the world around them began to spin, and they were in Malfoy Manner no more.

When the spinning stopped, and they opened their eyes, they found themselves in a dark stone room, unlit but for a small window high up in one wall.

A door opened and a man walked in.

"My name is Thorne," he said.

Both Draco and his godfather thought the man's accent peculiar, foreign, yet unplaceable.

"My Lord is expecting you. If you would follow me."

Thorne turned began to leave without waiting for a reply.

Snape nudged Draco with his elbow and the two hurried after him. They caught up with him a short distance down a hall from the room in which they had arrived, before following him through a series of turns and climbs until they arrived at a set of tall, ornately carved wooden doors.

Thorne motioned to the pair to stay before cracking the door and poking his head inside. After a brief second he extended his arm out behind him and signaled them forward. Thorne opened the door.

"Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, My Lord."

The room into which they entered was the most splendid room that either of them had ever seen –– even more so than Malfoy Manner. Between the crystal chandeliers, the light trickling through the windows, the velvet, the marble, it was exquisite.

_Where are we_, Draco thought to himself. Just then, he noticed that between each window stood a figure covered head to toe in black: black boots, black pants, a black shirt, a black hood, even black wands. At first Draco had thought that the figures were not real; he thought them statues, decorations. But as he continued to stare, he saw that they were people, guards of some sort. But a strange magic cloaked them, for where their faces should have been, underneath their hoods, was instead a seemingly eternal expanse of shadow, as though one was looking through a telescope into a starless night.

"Come, sit," they heard a voice say from the end of the hall.

Draco spied a pair of chairs toward the end of the hall, and tapped his godfather on the arm as he began to make his way towards them. It was only after he sat down that he saw Harry.

At first, he did not recognize him. He looked different; taller perhaps, or older. But what ever it was, it was quite clear to Draco at that moment that the Harry Potter sitting above him was one that Draco had never seen before.

Harry spoke again.

"You've noticed my shadows, then," Harry said, motioning towards the walls. "Members of the Department."

"Mr. Potter," Snape said, startling his godson who had forgotten his company in his amazement, "Could you tell me where we are? Certainly not the Ministry."

"Indeed not, Severus. I may call you Severus, right?"

Snape was about to correct Harry, before realizing that Harry would address him however he wanted.

"But to answer _your _question, Severus," continued Harry, "We are in the fortress known as The Tower."

It took a moment for the words' significance to dawn upon him. _The Tower… what is that? The only Tower I know of is the stuff of legends. The legends of the Ma-… What did Cyrus say? That he expected to be summoned… But, No. It can't be. _

Snape looked from side to side. _But what else could it be? Th- The shadows… the accent… the way Potter looks. _

"Perhaps you've heard of it, Severus?" Harry drew out the professors name, taking satisfaction in addressing him as such.

"Th- The Malkin Tower?"

"Some who remember might refer to it as such."

He began to shake.

"Could… Draco and I withdraw to the other room for a moment. To discuss some things?"

Harry laughed.

"Yes, of course. Take your time."

Draco felt his godfather grab his sleeve and give it a firm tug, pulling him from his seat. He followed closely as his godfather scampered towards the door, unaware of what had caused his sudden change of mood.

The two quickly reached the antechamber and closed the door behind them. The professor motioned to a corner and the two made their way over. Snape looked leftwards and rightwards before breaking out into a low, harsh whisper.

"Draco! Does the name mean nothing to you?"

He was met with a blank stare. Obviously, it did not.

"Did Lucius never tell of the legends. of the Malkins?"

"Of course he told me! But I fail to see how they're relevant now––"

"This is the tower!"

"Oh, come now, godfather. Surely you don't believe––"

"Did you not see Potter. He sat upon the seven steps!"

"So what?"

"You know the legends, Draco. You know what they say: that in the time of the Malkins, the regent of the Lord Sa would sit atop of the seventh step of seven bone white steps, and from their he ruled the world."

"So they copied it… You can't believe that Potter is the regent!"

Snape leaned in even closer, his voice now barely audible.

"Draco, yesterday Cyrus confided in me that Ragnok had written to him and told him to expect to be summoned, along with the rest of the Assembly. There is only one person who could do such a thing, and only one way that Ragnok would know. Draco, didn't you see how Potter signed his name? Potter Black. He was at the bank, Draco."

Draco's face blanched suddenly.

"But if what you are saying is true…"

"He even looks like one, Draco. He looks just as the stories say."

"It's just… alright. I have an idea. Let's find a window and see if we can see other walls. If what you say is true, than there should be seven concentric walls surrounding us. That is what the legends say."

Snape nodded in consent and looked around, spying a window high up in the wall opposite them. He motioned toward it and quickly crossed the room.

"It's too high," Draco complained. Indeed, the window was was about five feet above his head.

"Stand on my shoulders, Draco."

Draco nodded his consent, and soon was able to see from the window.

"Well, Draco, what do you see?"

Draco lowered himself to the ground. His face was paler now than before.

"Seven. Seven walls."

"It's as I both hoped and feared then, Draco."

Snape turned to face the door and motioned to his godson to follow him before turning back once more.

"Now remember well, Draco." He whispered. "This is not the Potter we once knew. You and I are both members of the Families, and you want to regain your family's seat. From now on everything is My Lord. Do you understand. Your life or more could depend on it."

Draco swallowed and nodded, and they both reentered the room, stopping before the chairs. Neither dared to sit Looking up, they saw that Harry still wore the same sly grin that he had done when they first arrived.

"Well," Harry asked, "Is everything alright then, Severus."

"Yes, thank you, My Lord."

"Ha!," Harry shouted. "So you've figured it out then. I can't say I'm impressed, though. I thought you would have realized sooner." Harry's expression suddenly changed from jovial to frightening. "What is it that you want, Severus?"

"Two things, My Lord."

"Why don't you start with the first," said Harry dryly.

"Well, soon Draco shall be forced into the Dark Lord's ––"

"I _know _that, Severus. I did read your letter. What do you want?"

"Well, I was hoping, My Lord ––"

"Oh, sit down, Severus."

Snape stood, frozen in place.

"Sit!"

Snape fell into his chair.

"We'll return to you in a moment, Severus. Now, you, Draco. You tell me. What do you want."

Draco's body trembled as he stood before Harry. This was certainly not what he had expected.

"My Lord," he answered shakily, "I want to avoid serving the Dark Lord."

"Very well, go. Run away. He won't spend the time to search for you."

"No, My Lord, you don't understand. He said that if I don't take the mark and kill Dumbledore by year's end, he'll kill my mother!"

Harry's features softened in an inhuman way.

"Look at me, Draco."

As though he were hypnotized by the very sound of Harry's voice, Draco slowly turned his face upwards to look at Harry upon his throne."

From his throne, Harry peered into Draco's eyes. He could read his thoughts, see inside him, just as Lazhan had told him. _So he want's to regain his seat on the assembly. Interesting… And he knows what that would entail, but he doesn't seem to mind. This is good…_

"You wish to regain your family's seat on the assembly, Draco."

Draco's face burst into an expression of shock. _How in the world did he know that_, he thought.

"Yes, My Lord."

"You are aware of what must happen prior to your reclaiming it?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"And you are prepared to do it yourself if necessary?"

Draco swallowed hard. His nervousness was easy to see.

"Yes, My Lord."

Harry leaned back in his throne and steepled his hands before him.

"The assembly serves _me_, Draco. In fact, they will shortly be reminded of that."

Draco just nodded.

"I don't give out favors to strangers, Draco."

Draco was confused, unsure of towards what he was hinting.

"But for those who grant me their favor, I am certainly willing to do so in return. So tell me, Draco. Are you willing to pay the price. After all, you will need to shortly anyhow if your seat is something you desire, but I would much rather you do it from favor than from fear. I grant no favors to the fearful, Draco; _I_ fear that they just don't know what to do with them."

"I am prepared to serve you, My Lord. Willingly. Out of favor."

"Then come, Draco. Kneel before me."

Draco moved forward and stopped before the first step.

Harry chuckled.

"No, Draco, here," he said, pointing toward the sixth step several feet in front of him.

Draco soon climbed them and knelt once more.

"Hold out your arm, Draco."

Snape looked on from his chair, scared and proud of his godson simultaneously. He watched as Harry stretched out his hand and press his finger firmly onto Draco's left forearm before retracting it. Draco was still for a moment, his eyes fixed rigidly upon the space which Harry's finger had just vacated, before his arm erupted in a copper glow and Draco began to scream.

He lay on the step panting for several seconds before he righted himself back into kneeling position. He looked at the eye now branded onto his skin.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"Yes. Now return to your seat, Draco. Wait just a while longer. We will fix your problem soon enough. Thorne," Harry shouted.

Draco could see the man in question cross the room as he made his way down the steps and back to his seat.

"My Lord?" Thorne said.

"Thorne, I would like you to call upon our goblin friend. Ask him to meet us here." Thorne nodded.

"And make sure he brings what I told him," Harry added quickly, "And make sure you tell Howle to send us who we need from Azkaban. The first one is to be sent here, and the other two to be taken to ministry."

"As we discussed, My Lord."

"Indeed, Thorne."

Thorne nodded again before saluting and walking away.

"And now for you, Severus," Harry said, turning to face him.

Snape made to say something, but was cut off before he had the chance to speak.

"Before you say anything, Severus, allow me to be very plain with you. By the end of October, I expect Voldemort to be driven from the country, if not entirely defeated, and Albus Dumbledore to be crushed. All that will remain is me, my people, and those who chose to stand with us."

"May I ask a question, My Lord?"

"You may," Harry replied.

"Why October, My Lord."

"Because, Severus, on Halloween night, those who have departed from this world are closest to it."

"Thank you, My Lord." Snape was shivering now beneath his robes. _He plans to rejoin the worlds then_, Snape thought. _How else would he be so sure of his victory._ It was at that moment that Snape understood Harry's true power.

"In light of what I've just said, Severus, I offer you the same choice. Give _me _your favor, do as I command, and you shall be free from both Dumbledore _and _Voldemort come November."

Snape took no time at all to mull it over, answering immediately.

"I accept, My Lord."

Harry nodded and motioned for Snape to approach him. Snape underwent the same procedure as his godson, and soon fixed his eyes upon forearm; his right forearm, that is. Harry had said that though he would remove the dark mark from his left in time, in was still useful.

He turned his head backwards upon hearing the door open. He saw Thorne poke his head in.

"They're here, My Lord."

Harry sat forward in his throne.

"Excellent."

~/\\/~

The Island of Azkaban lay several hundred miles northwards of Scotland, isolated from the mainland by the cold, choppy waves that are characteristic of that region. The island was not large; the majority of its surface filled by several large structures which together formed the nigh-impregnable fortress of Azkaban, the wizarding prison. And in that prison, on a warn out, flimsy mattress, in the cell occupying the northwest corner of the fifth story, sat Lucius Malfoy, staring out towards the stormy waters.

Azkaban had been hard for him. Of that, there was no doubt. His once pristine blond hair now hung in a dirty mat of tangles and knots. His once manicured nails had turned to cracked stubs. And his elegant manner, which often bordered on snobbishness, was no where to be found.

In its place was a near broken man who had, like so many others before him, succumbed to the terrors of Azkaban. Though unlike most, it was neither the loneliness nor the dementors that had done it for him, but rather the lack of information. For since the day that Lucius was locked in that cell, he knew nothing of the world but the thirty or so square feet that surrounded him.

It had been particularly bad since yesterday. It had started yesterday afternoon, for the sun was clearly visible to Lucius from his cell's window. He heard shouting and screaming, as though there was a fight carrying on below. At first, it had raised his hopes. Perhaps his lord had come for him, he thought. But as the hours wore on, and the sounds had died away, he simultaneously felt more hopeless, and more isolated, that he ever had before.

The events that followed further piqued his interest. As the sky outside his window darkened, Lucius expected one of the few human guards who actually worked inside the prison (unlike the aurors who generally confined themselves to their base –– a separate building) to push a tray through a small slit in the door, the contents of which he was expected to eat for supper. What came to pass, however, was quite different.

Instead of hearing the cool whine of the tray sliding across the metal door, he was startled by hearing the screech of the cell itself being opened. Two figures stood there, dressed in black from head to toe. They wore bone white masks over their faces, on which someone had painted the features of a face that was undoubtedly not their own, allowing their identity to be discerned by one who knew the mask's owner, and obscured by those who were not.

Lucius fell to the floor in fear before crawling his way into a corner. The figures terrified him: they looked as though they had emerged from a carnival set in the depths of hell itself. He remained in the corner, cowering.

One of the figures remained in the doorway, blocking it, while the second approached Lucius. He drew a vile from his pocket, filled with some sort of purple potion.

"Drink," he said.

The figure's mouth moved as if it were truly his face. Lucius did not dare move.

The figure left the vile on the floor of the cell, and turned around. In another moment the door was closed, and the only proof of the figure's visit was the purple potion on the floor.

Lucius stayed in that corner until he fell asleep, and indeed did not move from it after he woke. And so, Howle, accompanied by two of his five captains, Alice and Caractacus, found Lucius in the same corner when they entered the cell.

Howle raised his wand.

"Stupefy." Lucius slumped over upon his side, clearly unconscious.

Howle turned back to face the two others.

"Alice, Caractacus," he said, "get the other two and bring them to the ministry. Just as the orders were. _I _will take this one."

The two masked figures saluted before exiting the cell.

Howle crossed the cell, grabbed Lucius' arm, and and in a flash the two were gone.

When Lucius came to, he found himself in the very antechamber in which Draco and Snape had been just minutes before. He felt a wand pressed into his side and a hand grasping his arm firmly. He tried to speak. He could not, the effects of a spell, he presumed.

He only had a moment to look around, in which he saw a goblin carrying a stack of parchments and another figure in black, though unmasked, before he felt his captor push him through the wooden doors and into the hall.

He was brought to the end of the hall, at which point he was forced to his knees. He tried to stand, but was immobilized by his captor's spell. Looking around, he suddenly recognized some of the figures surrounding him: Draco, his son, sat in a chair several yards before him, Severus Snape standing to his immediate right.

"Draco," he tried to say, but could not. He was bound, helpless, and entirely at the mercy of his captors.

~/\\/~

Draco turned when he heard Thorne open the door. He did not identify his father when he first passed the doors, only realizing it was him when he was able to look closer as his father was forced nearer.

"Leave him there, Howle," he heard Harry say.

Turning his sight back towards Harry, he saw his new lord's form compress into a black shadow before he reappeared suddenly, standing not far from Draco, with only a trail of black smoke to account for his movement. He saw Potter flick his wand, and almost instantaneously a table appeared, upon which stood two glass vases.

"Come here, Draco," he heard Harry say.

He quickly joined his master.

"Now, Draco, I believe that you are familiar with the Reductor curse."

"Yes," Draco replied.

"Watch closely, Draco."

Draco watched as Harry steadied his outstretch wand before clearly intoning, "_Reducto_."

The left vase suddenly shattered as the blue light impacted it.

"Now, you try, Draco."

Draco then held his wand before him, as Harry had shown him, and cast the curse. The effects were the same, the vase now shattered into a million pieces.

"Well done, Draco," Harry said. "Now, follow me."

Harry led Draco to stand in front of his kneeling father.

"I want you to watch this, Draco, so you don't doubt who I am."

Harry moved closer to Lucius and stretch out his arm.

Lucius began to glow without warning, a pulsing spectrum of light around his body. Draco heard Harry inhale, and suddenly the light streamed toward him in a constant flow, and though he were sucking it away. Within seconds the light was gone.

"Do you see, Draco," Harry said, "I have taken his magic from him, and could have just as easily taken his life as well. Learn from this, Draco. Do not cross me."

Draco looked concurrently frightened and awed.

"Now, Draco, I want you to raise you wand."

Draco did just that. Harry grabbed his hand, and shifted his aim so that it pointed directly at his father.

"Just as with the vase, Draco. Though not the face, please. I want him visible in case we need photographs."

"M- M- My Lord…"

"Do it, Draco. Do not disappoint me."

Draco tried to still his shaking hand but failed, only managing to steady his aim after several deep breaths.

Finally, after several seconds, Draco finally intoned, "_Reducto._"

The effect was instantaneous. Lucius was blasted from his kneeling position and lay dead on the floor, a hole now occupying the upper left side of his chest where the spell had connected with his body.

Harry heard Draco stifle his sniffles beside him.

"Calm yourself, Draco," Harry commanded. "There is yet work to be done."

"Y- Yes, My Lord."

"Come with me, Draco."

Harry led him across the room, to where Ragnok had perched himself on one of the velvet settees. Harry flicked his wand and a small table appeared next to them, upon which Ragnok lay the parchments he had been holding.

The goblin slid one towards Draco.

"If you would sign here, Mr. Malfoy, and you will claim your inheritance. Including your title," he said, holding out a quill.

Draco took the quill and signed his name.

"Very well, Lord Malfoy. You are now the lord of your house, and officially an adult." Ragnok slid the rest of the parchments across the table to Draco who had yet to say a word. "Here is the contents of your estate. Please review it at your leisure, and come to the bank if you have any questions."

The goblin hopped of the couch and faced Harry.

"Well, My Lord, I believe that that was all I was needed for."

"Almost, Ragnok. I would be most obliged if you would go to Narcissa and explain the situation to her. Let's say ten minutes you. Have Howle escort you out."

Harry grabbed Draco's arm and led him back toward the throne where Snape still sat, his concern for his godson plain upon his face.

"Now, Draco, listen to me. This is of the utmost importance."

Draco at Harry.

"Yes, My Lord. I am listening."

"Very good. You will now seal away your property, so that Voldemort will be cast from your manor, and may never return again."

Harry saw Draco nod and perk up a bit, eager to banish the Dark Lord from his life.

"Now, concentrate on your manor, and repeat after me Draco. I, Lord Draco Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family, hereby reclaim what is mine, and banish all those that would do me wrong. So mote it be."

A bright white light engulfed the room as Draco finished the last word. He stumbled back several steps before falling into the empty chair.

"Very well, it is done, now. Severus, look after him, he might need help. The spell is draining, and I'm sure his other actions have left their tole."

"Are you leaving, My Lord?" Snape asked, startled.

"Yes," Harry replied, "But not for long. Remain here. If you need anything, ask the shadows."

Harry promptly turned on his heal, and walked out of the room.

~/\\/~

Kingsley had been sitting at his desk in the DMLE when Rufus had entered and announced that everyone present needed to make their way to the Atrium immediately. Though he was confused, he was not about to disobey an order, and soon found himself in the Atrium, surrounded by hundreds of witches and wizards. _The entire Ministry must be coming in here_, thought Kingsley, as he spied the columns of wizards and witches still streaming into the large hall through its many doors.

From where he stood he had clear view of a large platform occupying the front of the room. It was not a permanent fixture in the room –– quite the opposite; it appeared to have been built for some sort of special demonstration, but of what kind, Kingsley could not say.

Suddenly, he saw several figures appear on the stage. A row of black clad masked figures now lined the back. Two more black clad people stood before them, wands outstretched. One person knelt in front of each, the wands pointing towards their heads.

"Hello everyone," Kingsley heard a voice say. It was Harry! _Where did he come from?_ Kingsley thought.

"I apologize for this surprise –– both for its suddenness and its content –– but it must be done."

Harry clutched a scroll in his hand.

"These two people, these two convicts, are both found to have violated Order No. 1 of the Dep. of S.A.F.E. Now, while we would be glad to afford mercy when faced with repentance, it is unfortunate that we must remain unwavering in the face of obstinacy."

Harry unfurled the scroll.

"Walden Macnair and Filbert Henney," Harry began, "You have been tried and found guilty of the highest treason, having aligned yourself and your loyalties with two different vigilante groups, and failing to recant your beliefs upon exposure."

Kingsley could not believe it. He had just seen Filbert at the order meeting some nights ago

"Indeed, though you betrayed the trust of your Ministry and people by displacing your loyalties during your employment to it, and though you have thus far failed to repent, I offer you one final chance: recant."

The two kneeling figures said nothing.

"Very well," Harry continued. "I, Lord Harry James Potter Black, do hereby sentence you both to death for your crimes, may god have mercy on your souls."

Harry rolled the scroll back up, and drew himself to his full hight, arms crossed behind his back. Slowly he raised one arm in front of him.

"On my count, gentlemen."

Harry's arm fell to his side.

Without warning, the two black clad figures uttered one word in unison: "_Reducto!" _

AN: Please review; they are welcome. Thank you to all who have reviewed and continue to do so.


	11. Marked Decisions

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own my characters and my plot.

**Chapter 11 –– Marked Decisions **

Albus lowered the copy of the _Daily Prophet _onto his desk.

"It was absolutely barbaric, Dumbledore," Kingsley said.

"My God, that sounds terrible awful," added Hermione from her place next to the desk.

Albus turned his glance to each of them in turn before looking at the rest of those present. For the fourth day in a row, the most trusted members of the order of the phoenix sat crowded around Dumbledore's desk as they discussed what was to them most unpleasant news.

"Indeed it is, Indeed it is," Dumbledore replied with a sad shake of his head. "There is no reason that we should have to stoop to such a level."

_I can think of a good reason why_, Moody thought to himself, though did not dare to say aloud.

"I can only hope that poor Nymphadora is spared the same fate," Dumbledore continued. "Well, I'm sure that she is one of the twenty suspects being held in custody that the article alludes to."

"I don't think we need to be concerned over her," Kingsley said.

"And why is that, Kingsley?"

"Well, professor, one, Tonks is a member of Potter's house."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh! I can't believe I forgot to tell you. At the… demonstration as they called it, when Potter announced the sentence, he called him Harry James Potter _Black_."

Kingsley could see the effect that his words had on the professor, his eyes widening in surprise, but did not understand the reason.

"Anyway, if he had her killed the purebloods would be up in arms. One just doesn't do that––"

"Unless they've broken the code of the house," Hermione interjected so quickly that it almost seemed like one long word.

"True, Hermione, but secondly if he wanted to have her killed he would have done so at the demonstration. No, he wants her alive for some reason."

"No matter the reason," McGonagall said suddenly, "I think we have bigger things to worry about. You all heard the same article I did, no? The polls say that most people are approving of this…savagery."

"I agree, Minerva," Dumbledore said, "But I think we should wait until his reply before we plan what to do."

Just then, a tapping sound permeated the room. Dumbledore saw the owl as he looked up.

"Alastair," he said to the man standing by the window in the back, "Would you open it, please?"

Moody pried the window open, and soon a letter rested on Albus' desk.

The old professor picked up the envelope and examined it, turning it over in his hand.

"Why, I think this is exactly what we've been waiting for," he cried with a twinkle in his eye.

He opened and began to read:

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_By now I'm sure you're well acquainted with the contents of S.A.F.E Order No. 1, as well as the fate of Mr. Henney. Now, I will not talk to you, for there is nothing you can offer me. After all, I'm sure that you are abiding by the law as do we all, and as such have dissolved the order of the phoenix. If I ever find that it still operates, and that you are responsible for such, you will join Mr. Henney in his punishment. Any other requests should be placed through official channels only._

_Harry James Potter Black_

_Black!_, though Dumbledore, _so it's true! I need to speak to the goblins right away…_

"Well, then, everyone," Dumbledore said surveying the shocked faces around him, "It appears that he's not too eager to talk to us."

"Not to eager, Dumbledore!" McGonagall said, "He threatened to kill you!"

"Calm yourself, Minerva, calm yourself. People threaten to kill me all the time," he added with a chuckle. "But this does rule out the possibility of a friendly reconciliation."

Dumbledore slumped back in his chair, his fingers laced together in front of him.

"Well then," he continued, "I need to go… check some things. Everyone, let's agree to meet later. I'll signal when. In the meantime, start thinking of plans!"

~/\\/~

Fred and George walked side by side down Diagon Alley as they made their way to their new shop. If one had been watching them since their arrival, one would notice their expressions changing, their eyes widening, and hands clenching before returning to normal. Of course, one would be quite confused, as one would not have heard even a word pass between the two of them. Nevertheless, that in no way meant that they were not speaking.

The twins had discovered their ability when they very young, no older then four or five. They were playing a game of hide and seek in the garden, Fred hiding and his brother seeking. It had been fine at first, as normal as any other game, until George clearly heard his brothers voice speaking in his head.

"Ha!" the voice said, "There's no way he'll find me, not while I'm hiding behind the shed."

George went to check, and sure enough found his brother crouching behind the shabby structure. Fred of course was shocked.

"How did you find me!" He cried.

"Well, you told me where you were."

"No… I didn't say a word…"

Naturally, it was not long before the two realized their strange ability, and soon began to capitalize on it as well. And having told no one of their talent, it was very easy to do so.

But that summer they had found an even greater use of their ability: they could discuss topics between the two of them with the utmost safety that they would not be over heard –– topics which would have brought them more trouble than they would have known what to do with.

In fact, they were in the middle of a conversation of the very sort as they were walking.

"Truthfully," Fred said, "I don't see what's wrong with what Harry's done."

"I agree," George replied, "Dumbledore's been doing a banged up job of the whole thing anyway. Harry's got more done in two days than he's got done in a decade."

As they arrived to their shop, George noticed a flier stuck into one of the windows. He's was about to toss it to the ground, before he read what was written.

"Blimey! Fred! Listen to this."

"What?"

_S.A.F.E Order No. 2_

_The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement has of late received many letters from individual civilians asking how they can contribute to our efforts. We have considered this and would now like to declare a new organization intended just for this purpose: C.C.A.R.E (concerned citizens aid & relief effort)._

_This organization is to be composed strictly of concerned civilians, both anonymous and not, who will be ready at a moments call to defend their surroundings if need be, as well as to provide surveillance if it is required. Any concerned person can apply; simply send a letter to the Department at the Ministry, and we will send you a form that is to be completed and returned. At that point, you will be asked to come to the Ministry for an evaluation. Alternatively, you can come to the office directly._

_Furthermore, do not worry if you doubt your combat abilities; upon being accepted into the organization, you will be placed in an intensive course that will bring you up to speed. In addition, similar courses will be held soon for the general public._

_The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement thanks you for your trust and loyalty. _

Fred looked at his brother with wide eyes.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

His brother nodded his head.

"Well, let's go then."

In another instant, the two were gone.

~/\\/~

Daphne Greengrass stood impatiently by her father as the two waited in the foyer of Greengrass Manor.

"Father," she said, "I don't understand _why_ I need to go with Draco today!"

"I told you, Daphne. The Lord Potter Black wants to see you. And it won't just be you too. Pansy and Blaise and the others will be there as well."

"Yes, I know, but what does he _want_?"

_Indeed_, thought Cyrus, _what does he want… _Truthfully, Cyrus had not the foggiest idea of why Lord Potter wanted to see his daughter –– or the other children for that matter. But he had been quite explicit the previous night at the meeting.

And what a meeting it was! Of all the surprises he had ever had in his life, the events of the previous night were greater than all other. To see Potter on that throne… Potter acting as the Malkin Lord… Though in retrospect, he should have foreseen it. After all, how else could Potter have obtained his new Ministry department so quickly.

The door opened suddenly.

"Draco!" Cyrus said, having turned.

"Lord Greengrass," Draco replied. "Come on, Daph, are you ready?"

"Of course I'm ready," Daphne snapped back. "I've been waiting for ten minutes already. Where _have _you been?"

"Oh, Daphne, let him be," Cyrus said with a warm smile. "You'll meet the others at the Tower, then?"

"Yes, indeed. His Grace was more than specific on that point."

"Very well. Well then, you two must be off. It wouldn't do to keep His Grace waiting."

Cyrus opened the door, and shooed the two teenagers outside.

Draco pointed to the end of the path, and the two began walking together.

"So, Draco," Daphne began, "Can you tell me about where we're going?"

"Not yet, Daph. But you'll see it soon enough."

"Well then can you _at least _tell me what happened last night? Father won't tell me anything."

It only took a few seconds of her puppy dog eyes for Draco to acquiesce.

"Well, I only know what happened after they arrived. But all the members of Dark Assembly arrived all at once with a portkey at the Tower. His Grace had instructed me to collect them, and so I quickly led them to the throne room. I can't tell you much –– but he talked, and I regained my seat, and everyone took their oaths––"

"You did what! You're seat?"

"Yes. Oh, I meant to tell you this morning. It was amazing, Daphne. His Grace fixed it all. The Dark Lord was thrown from my home. We're safe now."

"And… Lucius?"

"His Grace had him brought from Azkaban."

"But…"

"I did it."

Daphne swallowed hard.

"Here we are, Daphne. Let's go."

~/\\/~

Draco and Daphne arrived accompanied by a flash of blue light.

"Where are we?" Daphne asked, looking around the stone room.

"The Tower, Daphne. Now, it should only be a moment. Blaise and the others should arrive… now."

Suddenly, a second flash of blue light filled the room, leaving three people in its place.

"Ahh," said Draco, acting as though he had been waiting for some time, "You're here, now. Come please, follow me."

Blaise looked as though he wanted to ask a question, but decided to keep silent.

Draco led them as he had been led, depositing them before the same set of beautiful doors. He opened them, and walked inside.

"My Lord," he said, "They are here."

"Excellent, Draco, show them in."

Draco motioned them in, and escorted them down the throne room towards a collection of chairs.

The five who were entering the room for the first time were astonished as they were led down the hall. Not only by the sheer beauty of the room, but by the row of black clad masked figures stationed on either side of the throne.

"Sit."

Daphne found herself sitting in the chair before she even comprehended the words. Looking around, she saw the others were sitting as well.

"I'm glad you've all come."

Daphne looked up and saw Harry slowly descend the steps to stand in front of them.

"Now," he continued, "You're probably all wondering why you're here…"

_Wondering indeed,_ thought Daphne, _and who are those people there?_

"If you would just hold on a minute, Daphne," Harry said suddenly looking at her, "I will get to that."

She was shocked, but Harry appeared not to realize.

"You're here for one reason, because I want you to be here. As I'm sure you're all aware, your families possess seats on the Dark Assembly –– occupied, and unoccupied. And those which are unoccupied, will be occupied shortly."

Harry finished his statement with his eyes fixed on Pansy and Millicent, sitting side by side.

"Now, being a member of the assembly, you do serve me. You will be part of The Black Rose."

_The Black Rose… _the name sounded familiar to Daphne, but she could not place from where.

"Would you just wait a minute, Daphne! I told you I will get to it."

Her eyes widened as Harry chastised her.

"Being my servants," Harry continued, "It would not do for you to be untrained. Rayne, Howle, step forward."

Two of the black figures stepped out of the line to stand on either side of their lord.

"This is Rayne, and this is Howle," Harry said, motioning to each of them. "They will be your trainers. You all will come here every morning, and leave each evening. And by the time school starts again, you will be trained. Do you understand?"

Everyone nodded their heads; Daphne raised her hand.

"What, Daphne," Harry drawled.

"Um… My Lord… How will we get here?"

"Good question indeed. You will get here by touching your marks."

"Marks, My Lord?"

"Yes, Daphne. Marks."

~/\\/~

Voldemort sat in his tall throne. The room was bare, dark, and empty, a mere shadow of his former accommodations at Malfoy Manor. He was outraged over that matter. When he caught Draco Malfoy… But until then, he had many other locations he could choose from.

He sat with a copy of _The Daily Prophet _spread out across his lap.

"This is ridiculous, Wormtail," he said.

"My Lord?" He replied meekly from his place in the corner.

"Listen!" Voldemort roared. "Polls approve Potter's work! He EXECUTED MY DEATH EATERS."

Wormtail hunched over in the corner, hoping to present a smaller target for the inevitable Cruciatus. He failed.

"Bring me Bellatrix, Wormtail! Bring her!"

Wormtail quickly scuttled out of the room, his incentive to leave much greater than his incentive to stay. His place was shortly filled, however, as Bellatrix walked through the door. She knelt at Voldemort's feet.

"My Lord?" she said.

"Rise, Bellatrix. Have you read the news?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Gather your wits to you, Bellatrix. I think it's time we remind Potter what he's dealing with."

As she looked up, she found that her master bore an identical smile to her own.

~/\\/~

Harry sat in a dark room. Night had fallen several hours previously leaving the thick panes windows glowing black. A lone candle rested on his desk, the only thing that separated him from his… guest.

Harry had been expecting him. In fact, Harry had instructed his personnel at the Ministry to alert him as soon as he walked into the department. They did, of course. He was easily recognizable.

Harry looked at him from across the desk with eyes shrouded in shadow.

"You are sure you want to do this?" Harry asked. "Once you accept, you cannot go back."

"I am ready."

"Very well. Then reach out your arm."

Harry watched as the mark etched itself into skin. Harry listened closely to hear if he would make a sound, even a grimace, but he did not. He bore the pain in silence.

Harry looked at him appraisingly.

"Welcome to the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement… Alastair."

Across the desk, an electric blue eye whirled about in its socket.

AN: Thank you to everyone who follows, favorites, and reviews –– it is appreciated.


	12. My Country, My People

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I do own my plot, and my characters.

**Chapter 12 –– My Country, My People**

Almost a weak had past since the last order meeting. No one, not even McGongall had seen the headmaster since then. He remained shut in his office, planning, and only emerged when he had to check on this or that. He was working feverishly, but on what, no one knew. They would be told in time, they assumed. And so, they went about their daily lives, and waited for their phoenix pendants to grow hot.

It so happened, that on that day, the daily lives of several order members brought them to Diagon alley. Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger sat outside Florean's ice cream parlor. They had not been sitting there long, only half an hour or so, but the two had quickly grown impatient.

"Ron," Hermione said, "When did Fred and George say that they would meet us for lunch?"

"12:00 'Mione."

She glanced down at the watch on her wrist. 11:50.

"That's what I thought… Then why were we here so early!"

"You're the one that made us leave!" Ron shouted in return.

Several pairs of eyes turned to look at the shouting pair from the crowded street before shaking their heads and moving on.

Suddenly, the street was overwhelmed with several loud pops. The pops then turned to screams.

"Ron, what is it, can you see?" She asked in a quick whisper.

Ron stood up on top of his seat to see over the crowd of screaming people, now running in every direction, trying to stuff themselves into an empty space in a building or behind a cart.

"Merlin, 'Mione, it's the death eaters!"

"What! Where?"

"All up and down the alley! At least 20 of them."

"Ron, get down!"

"No, 'Mione, we got to help them."

Out of no where, a voice began to speak as though through a megaphone, amplified over the entire alley.

"Attention citizens. Do not panic. The Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement is here. All C.C.A.R.E members please protect those around you."

Ron looked down at her from the chair.

"'Mione, get up here! You _got _to see this."

She quickly scrambled up on top of the chair and watched as the battled unfolded further down the alley. The shadows appeared silently, one second they were not there, the next they were. The death eaters were taken by complete surprise, and were completely outnumbered.

"Oh my god…" Hermione whispered.

She was looking at Harry Potter for the first time since the school year had ended. He was surrounded by his own black clad soldiers, flinging spells left and right from his wand. It looked to Hermione as though he was conducting a symphony of screams; every twist of his wand was met with a shout of a falling death eater. His followers did the same.

"Retreat!" Hermione could hear the fear in Bellatrix's voice as she yelled.

She was one of the only ones that escaped. Within minutes, nineteen of the twenty three death eaters that had come to the alley lay bound on its cobblestones.

She heard Harry's voice ring out over the alley a second time.

"Attention citizens. The incident has been contained. If you would all come back out and join us for a demonstration."

Hermione saw him flick his wand, and a large platform appeared. She saw him lean over and whisper something to the black clad figure next to him, before the shadows began to drag the death eaters, many of them softly moaning, up onto the platform. They arranged them in a line across the stage, each death eater on their knees, and each shadow standing behind one.

"Oh no…" Hermione whispered to Ron. "Ron… you don't think…"

Any continuation that she would have said was stopped as Harry climbed onto the platform and began to speak to the crowd that was forming around it.

"Citizens," Harry began. "You saw with your own eyes what these people did," he said motioning to the death eaters behind him, "And you know in your hearts what they wanted to do. Tell me, my people, are they guilty of treason?"

The alley erupted in a roar of screams as the people shouted "guilty!"

"Then you know as well as I," Harry continued, his voice growing louder, "That there is only one punishment suitable for crimes of this nature! My people, what shall be done?"

Once more the crowd erupted in shouts, each person demanding their death.

"Very well. Then I, Harry James Potter Black, Head of the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement, do hereby sentence the death eaters kneeling here to death."

The crowd met his words with cheers of approval. Some even shot sparks out of their wands and filled the air with fireworks.

Harry slowly raised his hand into the air before dropping it to his side. A series of blasts emanated from the platform; each of the nineteen death eaters lay sprawled out on the wood, their heads surrounded by blood.

The crowd cheered even louder.

Harry stood turned to face them once more, his hands crossed behind his back, his robe – bottom blowing in the breeze.

"Let this be a message," he declared, "That as long as the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement stands, the citizens of wizarding England will be safe and free!"

The crowd continued to cheer. Then, suddenly, a voice called out from somewhere in the crowd.

"Long live Lord Potter!"

"Long live Lord Potter!" the crowd echoed, and echoed, and echoed.

Hermione turned to look at Ron, her face as pale as his, and her mouth hanging open in shock. She barely noticed, as the platform was filled with a blue light, and the bodies disappeared.

"Bloody hell," she heard Ron finally say.

For once she did not correct him. She merely nodded her head slowly, speechless.

~/\\/~

Minister Fudge sat fuming at his desk. How _dare _he. That boy!

When the Minister for Magic had come to the Ministry that day, he had hoped to have a pleasant one. And indeed, until twelve o'clock, it had seemed as though his wish would be granted. But then Percy had come in with the news.

At first, he had not believed him. The thought that Potter had ordered an impromptu public execution was… barbaric. He had let the first one slide. After all, even Potter appeared to look at it unfavorably. Or, at least so it seemed. But for the people to listen _to him_ like that… and for him to call them _his _people. No, that could not stand.

Fudge tapped his fingers on his desk impatiently. _Where is he_, he thought. He had asked Percy (for by now he had learned his name) to call Potter to his office over an hour ago!

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door.

"Yes," Fudge said.

The door cracked slightly.

"Minister," Percy said, "Lord Potter Black is here to see you."

"Send him in," the minister growled.

Harry pushed Percy aside as he strolled into the office, closely followed by his normal entourage who quickly took their normal positions.

"Thank you, Percy" Harry said as though it were his office, "You may go."

Rayne shut the door firmly behind him as he left.

Harry flicked his wand and a chair appeared. He sat in it lazily as though he were preparing to read a book.

"Well, Minister?" Harry asked in a lazy tone.

"Well!" Fudge shouted indignantly. "You had no right to do that! He is _my _assistant and _I _will tell him when to leave!"

"Alright, Minister," Harry replied. "Was there something else, or is that all?"

"You're damn right there's something else!" Fudge shouted. "What is this _barbarousness_. Public executions! Angry mobs!"

"Minister," Harry said, "Firstly, they weren't executed. It was just an illusion. I had them brought afterwards to holding cells to await interrogation. And secondly, I was only following the protocol set down by S.A.F.E Order number one––"

"And that! You did not consult me at all when you did that. There will be no more orders passed without my approval. Do you understand that!"

"Certainly. Certainly minister. It was only for time's sake––"

"I don't care what reason you had for doing it. It - stops - now!"

Harry began to examine his nails.

"Yes. Fine, Minister, fine," he replied in a calm tone.

Fudge looked outraged by Harry's treatment of him. He could not believe that someone would dare treat him like that; and, if the redness of his face was any marker, he was very, very, upset.

"Look, boy," he began in a low cold tone, "Let me make something very clear to you." His shoved his finger towards Harry. "_I _am the Minister. This is _my _country and _my _people. And from now on, we are doing this _my way_."

"Whatever you want Minis––"

"SO," Fudge cut him off loudly, "_This _is what is going to happen. When I come to the Ministry tomorrow morning, this is what I want to see. Firstly," Fudge said holding up one finger, "You will have your men leave Azkaban and all its prisoners. It will be run by my aurors!"

Harry's eyes did not move from his fingertips.

"Secondly," now two fingers, "You will repeal both of _your _orders _immediately_, and you will not pass any more without consulting me."

"Mhm" Harry said.

"And lastly," Fudge shouted with three fingers, "There will be nothing more done without my _direct approval_!"

Harry flipped his hands over and began to examine his cuticles.

"Boy!" Fudge screamed, "Are you listening to me!"

Thorne's hand was halfway to his wand before he felt his master touch his arm to still him.

Harry sat up in his chair and fixed his eyes upon the Minister's.

"Minister," Harry said calmly, "I promise that when you return to the Ministry, everything you said will be done."

~/\\/~

"Crucio."

Bellatrix screamed as her master's curse connected with her. She collapsed, writhing before his crude throne.

"Would you care to repeat that, Bellatrix?"

"Nineteen Death Eaters captured in the raid and executed in the alle––"

"Crucio!"

Bellatrix began to scream again. She lay panting on the floor when it was lifted.

"And why didn't you tell me this sooner, bellatrix. It's almost evening!"

"I'm sorry, My Lord, but it took us time to ascertain what happened. I wanted to make a proper report and ––"

"CRUCIO!"

He removed the curse after a minute had passed.

"Bellatrix, the only reason I'm not executing you is due to your prior service."

"Yes, thank you My Lord."

"Potter is stronger than I had thought, Bellatrix…"

Voldemort took out his wand and soon a large wooden table occupied the center of the room.

"Give me your arm, Bellatrix."

She extended her arm towards him. He pressed one of his long, white fingers onto her mark.

Hardly a minute had gone by before the room was filled with popping sounds. Each death eater took his prescribed place around the table as he arrived, Voldemort sitting at the head.

"Ah, Severus, you're here," Voldemort said to him as he arrived, gesturing towards the empty seat to his right.

As Snape sat down he looked at the others around the table. The entire inner circle had been called, though for what, he was not sure.

"Now that Severus is here, we can begin."

Voldemort looked up and down the table before he began.

"As you all know, Bellatrix led a mission today to Diagon Alley. What few of you know, is that the mission was defeated."

Confused expressions filled the faces of most sitting at the table, though none wanted to interrupt their lord.

"Somehow, Potter was ready. Of the twenty three that were sent, nineteen were captured and executed on the spot."

Confusion turned to shock.

"Potter is stronger than I had thought. We can no longer carry on as we have been doing."

"But My Lord," said Yaxley, "He's only sixteen. Surely he's not that powerfu––"

"Crucio!"

Yaxley fell out of his chair as he screamed. Slowly, he lifted himself back up into it.

"You dare disagree with you Lord, Yaxley?" Voldemort asked.

"No, My Lord, I'm sorry My Lord."

Voldemort gave him a cold look before continuing.

"We can no longer continue performing raids as we have been doing. Nor can we continue to infiltrate the Ministry. It has been two weeks, and the boy has already uncovered more than ten of our agents in the Ministry. We need a new tactic…"

Voldemort looked lost in thought for a moment before he continued.

"You will all go now. We will meet again tomorrow night, and I expect you to all have ideas by then. Go. Go!"

As death eaters left as quickly as they came, the room once more filled with pops.

"Potter," Voldemort said to himself quietly. "Potter."

~/\\/~

At the same time, Ron, Ginny, their parents, and Hermione all sat around the dining room table in The Burrow eating dinner. Fred and George rarely returned home for dinner now that they had the flat, and Percy had not been back since the falling out with his father.

"It was crazy, Mum. I _still _can't believe it."

"It was absolutely barbaric. Brutal, that's what it was," Hermione corrected.

"Tell me again, dears, what happened exactly."

"Mum," Ginny whined, "We already heard it twice!"

"Albus called a meeting for tomorrow morning, Ginny. We can not afford to leave anything out. This is important. Now go on, dears."

"Well," Ron started, "We were waiting for Fred and George and Florean's when all of a sudden the death eaters appeared. Now we just heard screams, so I hopped up on the chair––"

"I told him to get up on the chair––"

"So I could see what was happening. Well the death eaters did as normal, and started flinging spells all about, firing at everything they saw, when almost instantly Potter and his people appeared."

"They were terrifying," Hermione said. "We could see Harry's face clearly. But the others… the shadows… they wore these masks, but not like the death eaters. They were faces, but not faces…"

"Anyway, it only took a few minutes and the death eaters were either gone or lying on the ground. Well, suddenly this large platform appears and the shadows dragged the death eaters up onto it. Before we knew it there was a crowd around it demanding their deaths."

"And?" Molly asked.

"And the brute had them killed."

"I still can't believe that it's _Harry _who is doing it. I mean, I see everyday what's happening in the Ministry. People being dragged out of their offices, people marching down to their offices for questioning, but still… You know I saw him today."

"Harry? You saw Harry?" Molly asked.

"Yeah. I didn't talk to him or anything. Wasn't really close, really. Just saw him marching across the atrium. Had a nasty look on his face. I feel sorry for whoever caused that."

"Has your date come up yet, Dad?" Ginny asked.

"I'm scheduled for next week."

"Merlin, Arthur, I'm worried about you," Molly said. "What if Potter finds you. I mean, he knows that you're in the order. I doubt he thinks that you've quit."

"I don't know, Molly."

"What happens in those interviews anyway?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know much about that either. I think it depends on the person."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, for example there's this one bloke I know, was in and out in five minutes. He says the interrogator barely looked up from the paper. Different chap said that he was in there for three hours the other day and he had veritaserum fed to him. And those are the ones that come back. Apparently if they find you suspicious they arrest you right there and take you away."

"God. It's scary. Harry has made the country absolutely brutal and it's only been two weeks," Hermione said.

"It's alright, Hermione," Molly replied. "We're talking to Albus in the morning. I'm sure it will look better in the morning.

~/\\/~

"Well Percy, I'm off. It's been a long day."

Percy looked up from his desk where he sat sorting through papers.

"Yes, Minister. Quite long. Well, goodnight, Minister."

Indeed, it had been a long day for the Minister. He had not had any other meetings that day, not since Harry left, but it alone was enough to shake him up. He could not tell what he was up to. It was too easy to talk to him, he thought. He had not expected Harry to agree so easily. But, then again, what else was Harry supposed to do.

Fudge walked back into his office after waving goodnight to Percy and reached for the jar of green powder on the fireplace mantle. He threw some onto the flames, stepped in, and clearly intoned "Fudge Manor."

He stepped out of his sitting room fireplace seconds later. He looked around the room with shock.

The room was empty, bare of all paintings, decorations, furniture, except for one chair; one chair that was being occupied by the last person he wanted to see –– Harry Potter.

"Potter! What are you doing here?" Fudge yelled. "And where are my things."

Harry looked up at the Minister.

"Why, Minister, I've taken the liberty of having your things moved to storage. After all, the house will be empty and all that, and I didn't want anything getting ruined…"

"Empty? What do you mean empty?" Fudge's voice suddenly began to carry a more frantic note.

"Why, Minister!" Harry said with a mocking laugh, "You were attacked tonight, in your home! Now, the Department suspects the Order of the Phoenix, but then, you never know. But anyway, you've been moved to a secret location to recuperate."

"What the devil are you talking about, boy!"

Harry just laughed in response.

Fudge suddenly became very scared. He tried to move his hand into his pocket discreetly to grasp his wand, but found that he could not move his arms no matter how hard he tried.

"Tut tut, Minister. Where is the trust? Then again, you were right to go for your wand."

Harry snapped his fingers, and twenty or so shadows filled the roomed, some lining the walls, some guarding the door, and some on either side of Harry.

Suddenly, a red light blazed forward from where Harry sat and caught the minister in the chest, sending him flying into the wall.

He fell hard on the floor. Moaning, he found that he could move again, and rolled onto his back. A shallow gash ran diagonally across his chest, tearing both his clothes and his skin. He pressed his hand to it. His palm was wet with blood.

"Crucio."

He barely registered hearing the curse before it hit him. It lasted for what seemed like forever. His throat was raw from screams when it was finally lifted.

He rolled over onto his stomach, panting hard, before he felt to sets of hands grab his arms and pull him to his knees. Two of the shadows dragged him forward and forced him to kneel in front of Harry. One grabbed the back of his head and forced him to look up.

Harry sat forward in his chair and met the Minister's forced gaze.

"Now, let _me_ make something very clear to _you_, Minister," Harry said. "You are only Minister because I allow you to be such. The people trust me, not you. Your rating has gone up because of me, not you. And we're going to listen to me, not you."

Fudge looked at him wide-eyed. He tried to stand up, but one of the shadows kicked him in the head, knocking him against the floor. He lay there for several seconds, sprawled out in a heap, before he was dragged back in front of Harry.

"This is _my_ country now, Minister," Harry said. And these are _my _people."

Fudge felt another kick, this time to the ribs, which knocked him onto his back.

"Now, where were we?" Harry asked with a fake questioning air. "Oh. Right."

He leveled his wand and pointed it at the Minister's prone form.

"Crucio."

AN: Thank you to everyone who reviews, favorites, and follows. It is very appreciated.


	13. Plans

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. My plot and my characters are mine.

**Chapter 13 –– Plans**

Percy was beginning to get worried. He had been at his desk already for an hour, and the Minister had yet to arrive.

Now, the fact that Percy had arrived before the Minister was in no way alarming. He did so every day, a fact that prided himself on. But what did alarm him was the seven o'clock had come and passed, and the Minister was no where to be seen.

It had happened before that the Minister had not come in at his normal time, though in times previous he had always sent a note. And so, Percy carried on with his work in his regular fashion, despite the unsettling feeling of unease that filled him.

But what happened next not only solidified his fears, but expanded them. Percy was reviewing the Minister's schedule when it happened. The door suddenly burst open without warning. Percy looked up with shock, and saw the team of shadows march in.

There were five of them. Two immediately left the group and barged into the Minister's office.

"E- E- Excuse me," Percy said, holding up his hand. "You- You can't go in there. Can I help you."

One of the shadows, the obvious leader of the team, turned to look at him, as if he had not noticed his presence until then. He murmured something unintelligible to the others. Before Percy realized what was happening, two of the shadows had grabbed him by the arms and dragged him to the leader.

Percy kicked and screamed but he could not free himself. Suddenly, the two twisted his arms back painfully. He felt like he could not move.

"Listen well, Percy Weasley," the leader said to him through his moving mask. "The Ministry does not presently require your services. You will be contacted when we do. Do not return here until then."

With that, the shadows flung him through the doorway and slammed the door shut.

He landed in a heap on the floor, completely shocked by the situation. After a few moments, he stood up and rushed to the door, pounding on it.

"Hello? Hello! Let me in!"

He tried the handle but found the doors locked. He pounded again. No answer.

He turned on his heel and sped off down the hallway. Several minutes later, he stood before the lobby of the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement.

He marched towards the reception desk with an angry look on his face.

"Hello, may we help you?" The woman asked in a cool tone.

"I want to know want to know why you threw me out of my office!" Percy shouted.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm not sure that I understand what happened. Would you explain?"

"I will not _bloody explain_!" He yelled. "I want to speak with whomever's in charge here!"

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."

"I'm not going to bloody calm down!"

Suddenly, a stack of parchments resting on the end of the counter caught his eye. He grabbed one.

_Department of S.A.F.E Bulletin Alert_

_Attention Citizens:_

_There was an incident last night in which the Minister was attacked in his own home by unknown persons. While not fatally or critically injured, the Minister did sustain injuries, and has been transferred to a secret, secure location for the recuperation period. _

_Though the Department does suspect The Order of the Phoenix to be involved, we do not know for certain. If you have any information regarding the attack, please contact the Department of Safety and Freedom Enforcement._

_In several days, the Wizengamot will meet to elect an interim Minister to act in his stead while Minister Fudge recuperates. _

_Thank you for your trust and cooperation._

Percy's face went white.

"What the bloody hell is this!"

"Sir. Sir I'm afraid that if you don't calm down we will need to ask you to leave."

Percy looked up and saw the shadows stationed in the corner of the room. With one final nasty glare at the receptionist, Percy spun around, and ran out of the room.

~/\\/~

Fred and George sat around the small table they had placed in the kitchen above their shop eating breakfast. It was not much –– two bowls of oatmeal really –– but now that they lived on their own, they could do what they wanted. They no longer had anyone, especially their mother, watching their every move.

Eating together and relishing in their new found freedom had become something of a ritual for the two. Every morning they would sit together and eat before apparating to the head of the alley (for it was quicker than walking), and walk the short distance to their shop, greeting everyone they saw, and making sure to promote their business.

And indeed, they were quite content to repeat the same basic ritual every morning. But that morning, something different happened. That morning, they heard a voice calling them from the fireplace. It was panicked, and hurried, and it belonged to their brother Percy.

"Fred. George. Are you there. Please. I need to talk to you."

Naturally they were startled. Silently, they quickly communicated.

_No… it can't be…_

_But… I think it is…_

"Please. Fred. George. It's Percy."

Fred and George looked at each other confusedly. Slowly, they made their way into the other room, and saw Percy's head sticking out of the flames. He saw them.

"There you are," he said. "Listen. I'm sorry, but I need to come over. Please. It's the only place that's safe for me right now."

They went closer.

"What are you talking about, Perce?" Fred asked.

"I don't have time to explain!" Percy said. "Just, let me through. Please."

Fred and George sighted in unison.

"Alright. Percy Weasley: you have permission to come through."

Barely five seconds had passed before Percy came tumbling out of the fireplace, spilling suit and ash onto the carpet as he fell. He stood up slowly and brushed himself off. He looked pale.

"Merlin, Perce, you look like you're about to get killed!"

Percy staggered a moment before righting himself again.

George grabbed his arm and propped him up.

"Come on, Percy. Let's get you sitting down before you hurt yourself."

Percy said nothing; he just looked at them with a hollow expression.

"Alright," George said, "Come on."

He helped Percy navigate into the kitchen and sit at the table. Fred followed him closely.

"Alright, Percy. What's going on," Fred spoke in a direct tone, a sharp contrast from his normal joviality.

Percy said nothing, but reached into his coat pocket and thrust the crumpled parchment toward the twins.

They read it silently and became to speak in their heads.

_You don't think Harry…_

_We need to ask Percy why he's here._

_Right. Well. _

"Um… Percy," George said. "No offense, but, why are you here?"

Percy suddenly looked up at him wide eyed and panicked.

"I was at my desk and the minister had not come in yet. I hadn't heard from him," he said, "And suddenly five shadows broke into the room. They grabbed me and said 'you don't work here anymore' before throwing me out of the room and locking it."

"And they gave you the paper?"

"No… I went to their offices. I wanted to ask what was going on. I saw them on the counter."

"So, Percy," Fred cut in, "No offense, but why are you _here_?"

"Well, Mum and Dad won't talk to me. Ron neither. Who else was I supposed to ask––"

"Ask what!"

"Well… to take me to Dumbledore, of course. He's the only one that can help. Potter… he's taken over the Ministry. It must be him…"

Fred and George looked at each other once more. This time they wore matching grins.

"Well, Perce, it so happens that we were about to head off to an order meeting right now."

~/\\/~

It was small. It was dirty. It was cramped. The walls were made of a dark stone. There were no windows, none at all. A floating light illuminated a small, worn out cot, and a toilet. All this was separated from the hallway by a thick metal door.

Tonks had been in that cell ever since she was arrested at the bank. She had expected a reprimand. Maybe, if Potter really wanted to assert his authority, an interrogation. But since she had been placed here, she had not only not talked to anyone, but she had not seen anyone either.

There was no clock in the room, and of course her watch was taken from her with her other possessions (how she wished she had her wand). Her only measure of time was a thrice daily occurrence, in which a small glass vile filled with a purple potion was slipped through the door.

She had only realized that it was a kind of nourishment potion after they had already pushed several into the cell. The guard (for she did not know what they were called) had noticed that several of them had accumulated.

"Drink," he said.

It was the only word that Tonks had heard since she had come here.

The nights were long and the days were longer, signified only by the floating light in her cell that would, every so often, plunge her into total darkness when it was extinguished. And so, she found herself with a great deal of time on her hands.

How she wished that she could speak to someone, anyone, so that they could tell her what was happening in the world without her cell. She had so many questions. She constantly wished only to hear a familiar voice. But little did she know, her wish would be granted, and in the most unsatisfactory way.

She had been awake several hours, or at least so she judged, when the heavy metal door opened, screeching as it slid across the flagstones. She looked up to see the most unwelcoming sight she could see: Harry Potter, flanked by his black clad guards.

"Good morning, Tonks," he said from his place in the doorway, "How are you feeling?"

"Wh- Wh- What?" Tonks asked, confused.

"It's quite simple, Tonks. How are you feeling?"

Tonks glared at him with a murderous, loathsome stare.

"Screw you, Potter," she growled, "You're the bloody bastard that put me here."

"Ah," he said, as if he had not heard a word of her response. "So, I see you still have not learned you lesson."

"All I've learned is that you're a bloody psychopath!"

Harry reached into his robe and extracted a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. He threw it onto the floor of the cell.

"What a pity. And here I thought that we could have a pleasant conversation. Remember that for next time, Tonks. Remember your pleasantries." Harry gestured toward the newspaper. "Look. I brought you some reading material. I hope it entertains you. Until next time, Tonks."

He took a step backwards and before she knew it the heavy door was closed and bolted once more.

"No!" she screamed. She rushed over and pounded on the door with all her might, but it would not budge.

She dropped to the floor and began to weep.

~/\\/~

"And do you have this parchment with you, Percy?"

The Order council, the name which now applied to the most prominent members of the Order of the Phoenix (their ranks having swelled since the Dep. of S.A.F.E's beginning by those who feared it) sat crowded around Dumbledore's desk as they watched the exchange between Percy and their leader.

Every member's full attention had been upon Ron and Hermione when they had told their story –– something the two young order members had relished in –– but the attention now awarded to Percy was even greater. For every person in the room, those still loyal to The Order, and the few that were not, knew what it meant if Percy's claim was true: Harry Potter and his organization had taken over the Ministry.

"My," Dumbledore said, "This is serious news indeed." He turned his look to Arthur. "And you said that you saw Potter leaving the Ministry looking angry."

"He was looking furious, Albus."

"And the Minister and him had got into a fight earlier," Percy added. "The Minister was furious when he heard of what Potter did in Diagon alley. I could hear him yelling through the closed door."

"Well then," Dumbledore said, "There's little doubt about it. It's taken Harry two weeks to do what Voldemort has been attempting for two decades."

Dumbledore sat and mulled over the information silently while his followers looked at him with shocked faces. Suddenly, a smile spread over his face.

"But," he continued, "I believe Potter finally made a misstep."

"Well," McGongall said, "What is it, then."

"Look what he says: 'In several days, the Wizengamot will meet to elect an interim Minister.' This is our chance. You all know that we are not without support in the Wizengamot. I am still a member, as are several of us here. If we can propose a… favorable candidate to us, and have him elected, we could curb Potter's power. After all, two Minister's attacked days apart would cause suspicion."

"That's brilliant, Albus. Brilliant!" Molly exclaimed.

"Just one problem, Albus," Alastair growled. "Just who are you thinking of proposing?"

"I think, Alastair, that we need to write a message to one Susan Bones."

~/\\/~

"Useless! Do none of you have any worthwhile ideas!"

The death eaters around the table cowered as Voldemort berated them, each expecting a dose of the Cruatious Curse. He flung back his seat in anger and began to pace along the side of the table in quiet fury. He suddenly turned sharply.

"Bellatrix!" he yelled, "You're the last one. You better have something…"

Bellatrix straightened in her chair as she addressed her master.

"My Lord," she said, "I believe I do have something."

"Well, Bellatrix, out with it. Do _not _try my patience."

"I think we should wait," Bellatrix said hurriedly, mashing the words into one long sound.

"What?"

"Potter is too strong, My Lord, for our previous strategy to work. He slaughtered us, and will continue to slaughter us. We need to wait until his attention is diverted and then attack with all we have."

Voldemort sat back down in his chair and held his hand in front of his mouth. He looked interested, something that was good for everyone present.

"And _what_, Bellatrix, do you propose be the… diversion."

"The Order, My Lord."

"What?" Voldemort asked in a drawn out whisper.

"The Order. The Order of the Phoenix. It's only a matter of time until Potter decides to dispose of them once and for all. And Dumbledore won't go down without a fight. It's better that we sit back and let Potter focus his attention on them instead of––"

Voldemort silently contemplated for several moments before he began to slowly nod his head.

"That might just work," he said, "That might just work…"

~/\\/~

The sun was hanging low in the sky when Cyrus Greengrass returned home that day. He had been working all day, going over plans with the goblins for future legislation. He had been working on it for a week or so, and had not had a simply, quite day since.

His lord had approached him with the assignment about a week and a half prior, instructing him in the new approach to goblin - wizard relations that he wanted to establish. Harry wanted "to return things to the way they were last time," he said, and Cyrus was the one to do it.

Of course, they both knew that it would present problems, both among the wizards and goblins. It was unthinkable to the wizards that they should actually allow the goblins to own wands, to live in wholly goblin cities built _above _ground as well as wizarding cities, and to treat them as if they too were people. And from the goblin perspective, especially the younger ones with no memory of the Malkins at all,it was hard to accept that a wizard, even one of the Malkins, would be their supreme leader.

His weariness was evident in every heavy step as he trudged his way up the path to the manor and ascended the stairs up to his bedroom. He had about an hour before dinner would be served, and he wanted to rest a bit before he saw his daughters. But his plan changed instantly, when he saw Harry Potter sitting in one of the chair surrounding his bedroom fireplace.

He knelt low to the ground as soon as he saw him.

"My Lord! What a surprise. I didn't expect you… why didn't you tell me you were coming I would have prepared something or ––"

"Calm down, Cyrus. Come, sit."

Cyrus got into the chair as quickly as he could.

"My Lord. The goblins are being a bit difficult. They want some things that we can't give them and we want some things that ––"

"Calm down, Cyrus."

Cyrus stopped talking and sat still, recognizing a command when he heard one.

"I'm not here to talk about that. You keep working. No, we have more pressing things to do. You've read the bulletin already?"

"Yes, My Lord. Ragnok in particular thought it was quite funny."

"Dumbledore is planning on sponsoring Susan Bones for interim Minister. He knows as well as we do that Fudge won't be recovering, and he wants to wrestle control of the Minister back from us."

"You want me to rally support to oppose her. The Dark Assembly will vote as you command, and the majority of the British people support you."

"I want you to run, Cyrus."

"My… Lord?"

"I want you to run. I am a member of the Wizengamot. I will sponsor you, and you will become Minister."

"Minister? You want me to be Minister? But… what's the platform. What do I tell people. What is our goal?"

Harry reached down behind the chair and picked up a stack of parchments. He handed it to Cyrus.

"It's all in there Cyrus."

Cyrus looked at the stack for several seconds before he began to flip through it.

"The Tower Party?"

"Mhmm."

Cyrus looked through the headings.

"And you think the Wizengamot will vote for it?"

"I think that everyone who doesn't back Dumbledore will do."

"And the public?"

"The same."

"And when are we to present this?"

"The nominations will be held in three days time. The platform addresses are to be held four days afterwards. You have one week to learn that front to back, Cyrus."

"But, what about the goblins?"

"Forget the goblins. I'll have Alexander worry about them. One week, Cyrus. One week."

AN: Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, and reviewed. It is appreciated, especially reviews. Thank you.


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